God of Grief
by Esseo
Summary: 01x02 A finished roleplay between myself and my partner (Duo) Played entirely on Tumblr.


God of Grief

「Beep」 Connecting… Standby…

「Beep」 Connecting… Standby…

「Beep」 Connecting… Standby…

…Unable to connect.

No answer.

Heero crossed his arms and quietly sank back to contemplate within the comfort of his navigation console. His skull relaxed against it's cushioned headrest. He stared at the stars beyond his cockpit without truly seeing them.

It had been three days since the public destruction of XXXG-01D…and three days without word from it's pilot.

This wouldn't have been unusual if said pilot was Trowa Barton, a man capable of his own resolve. Or even Quatre, who had a healthy support system beyond Sandrock. But, the pilot of XXXG-01D was Duo Maxwell. And he had no foundation.

(Not for lack of trying.)

Pilot 02 was always reaching for company; frequently flickering onto Heero's transmission screen to prattle. He liked to talk. But now, he wasn't talking. He wasn't even answering his comm. The sudden silence was wrong. Seclusion didn't adhere to his psychological profile.

duoordie

A pulsing green light cast illumination over a days dark room. The single occupant sat soundless against a far wall. The thin fingers of his left hand twitched for just a moment, a weak urge to get up and throw the portable terminal into the wall flashed through him but it wasn't enough to make his body rise to action. The air in the safe house was stale, breathed and then breathed again. It didn't matter. The green light kept flashing, but there was no further response from the 15 year old boy. Usually clean kept hair was half escaped from his ever present braid, a sweat stiff tank top and a pair of thread bare shorts were all that adorned his lean body. A roman collar sat crinkled beside the terminal, discarded for the moment with his other clothing. A few stray wrappers and empty water bottles decorated the floor, keeping company with the single mattress the brunette rested on.

How many days had it been, since they killed him? The image was burned into his mind, the metal of his friend's face tearing off with the force of the explosion. Bits and pieces of him floating off into space, propelled by fire and hatred. His Gundam. Deathscythe. He spent years with him, learning to pilot and repair the machine. He'd been through death with him. Duo Maxwell wasn't a fool, he knew his Gundam wasn't alive on a rational level. No heart beat or brain. The human mind couldn't resist humanizing a machine like that though. It had become an avatar of himself, the face he showed the world, his soul against countless others all fighting for their continued existence. To be made to watch, to see yourself destroyed as people looked on in awe, clapping and cheering at your demise… it was more than he could take. He'd shouted in the center of that crowd of celebrators, screaming until his voice cracked, before fleeing the scene. He remembered that rage, still felt it within him, but a shroud of despair had covered it so tightly that it was starved of any fuel. No matter how much anger there was building in him, it couldn't burn through the weight of that paralyzing anguish.

He'd holed up in an L2 colony, the most like home he could. The streets were dirty, and so were the people. Word of OZ had only barely begun to touch here, their plague carrying fingers not yet piercing the trust of this colony. Duo had found himself a quiet place to engage in his self-hated. Everyone he cared about died, what made him think his Gundam was somehow exempt from his life's singularly upheld rule? Despondent cobalt eyes closed, before their owner turned away from the attention seeking green light. It didn't matter.

heero-for-hire

The L2 transport was never on time. It was constantly struggling with 'minor' mechanical issues, all of which could have been avoided, had it been receiving the routine maintenance it was owed. Year after year, its system went neglected because the colony cluster that housed it was not a lucrative one. Heero paused in the center of its graffiti-riddled platform to sync his communicator.

The exiting crowd parted thoughtlessly to either side, only to coagulate ahead like an army of ants. He remained focused on his device. A white needle formed empty, green circles on its screen in an attempt to relocate its target. Heero took a few steps forward and waited for the tracker to retransmit. There was static interference, indicative of a low-budget atmosphere. Eventually, a glowing dot affirmed Maxwell's location…or at least, the location of his device. Which was stationary.

Heero's self-appointed mission pulled him through the colony's ill-kempt streets, passed crumbling warehouses and alleyways full of loitering youth. The chemical undercurrent of manufactured air was evident; just as plastic as the garbage piling along L2's waterways. He ghosted through it all, too transfixed on his terminal to notice the impoverished path he was being lead down.

His route would end at a shack made of sheet metal. It sat lopsided amidst mechanical debris and discarded plywood; lacking optimism. There was no semblance of aesthetic comfort visible from the outside. This was where Duo Maxwell retreated when there were no battles to be won. This was the haven he had selected for himself.

Somehow, Heero had pictured it differently.

duoordie

A shrill but relatively quiet alarm had a gun in Duo's hand before he could even fully process the noise. The proximity alert, accompanied by the red light now shown on his terminal's screen. The slender boy got up from his mattress, untangling his legs from the unnecessary amount of blankets that covered the soft plain. The view screen came to life at a touch, Duo squinted as the frame was illuminated brightly, his pupils shrinking to pin pricks after being in the dark for so long. A small breath he hadn't realized he's been holding escaped chapped lips. "…Heero…" Not a face he expected to see on the monitor.

The severe brunet stood outside the door to the "shack". It was a cover of course. If the Japanese boy were to enter, it would appear deserted, junk and dirt covering the floor. He thought for a moment about not opening the real door… but if Heero had come here there was next to no doubt he would find the hidden entrance to the safe house below. Duo had buried himself in the "earth". When the other pilot entered the shack, a small hatch in the ground would open with a hiss. There was a key pad next to it where a four digit code, 5109, could be entered. Heero could of course break into it, and the Maxwell boy was in no mood to banter with the other about what Psalm he used to lock his doors.

The interior would be dark, a short hall into the braided boy's hide away. It was about the size of a small studio apartment, with a dusty kitchenette and a bathroom that smelled slightly of mold connected to the room the salvager occupied. Duo sank back into his pile of blankets as he heard foot steps descending. Even while he kept a calm face on, a bit of annoyance would show through. What was the other pilot doing here? Why must his grief be interrupted? What the hell could Heero Yuy want from him now?

heero-for-hire

He'd slipped in coolly, avoiding piles of scrap metal with the same mindless ease of a junkyard cat. The monitor captured his grace and amplified it over Duo's screen amidst a gray-scale glow. He halted only once, to scan the room for a surveillance system after a hatch had revealed itself at his feet. Heero had been detected and offered a blunt invitation. He would accept it…efficiently. The hacker crouched over the floor, blocking his working hands with a view of his back. The keypads numbers went berserk just before being reduced to a row of red zeroes.

He was in.

Yellow sneakers made their way through Duo's dim abode until Heero stood firmly in the bedroom's doorway - an expectant silhouette. Alarm lights did little to hide Pilot 02's damage. Bruises remained from his recent capture. His underclothes were pinned to his skin by sweat. Most notable, was the condition of his braid. Heero had never noticed how meticulously Duo cared for his hair, until seeing it in a state of neglect. It's shape could barely be considered a style. Loose strands clung to the boy's face, neck and shoulders. They were heavy looking, probably oily. Heero settled into eye contact with a reserved blink.

duoordie

Duo felt the other pilot's gaze settle on him like a weight. For a moment he felt embarrassed at his current state, before irritation overtook that reaction. Blue eyes stared, cutting though the stale air. The salvager's lips pursed, as though about to say something, before opening to release a heavy sigh. Thin fingers grabbed a handful of blankets, pulling them around himself before he flopped sideways onto the bed. "… what." His tone implied an odd mixture of statement and question. What are you here for? What do you want? A snide remark formed on his tongue about not having any parts for the other to steal now, but it never made it past his teeth.

heero-for-hire

Maybe that was for the best. Heero seemed immune to sarcasm. The room fell silent as Duo resigned himself to a comforter-cocoon. It would muffle Heero's approach, but not his words and not the squeak of Duo's mattress as it dipped to accommodate another occupant.

"You haven't been answering your comm."

duoordie

Duo's body froze as he felt the bed tilt from the addition of the other boy's weight. A momentary look of shock graced his features before he rolled his eyes, near violet irises settling on the far wall. He hadn't even checked who had been trying to contact him, just ignored that flashing alert and waited for it to disappear… The idea that it was Heero had never occured to him. Having the soldier voluntarily move closer to him made the pale boy feel awkward. Neither of them were terribly concerned with personal space, growing up with none will do that to you, but for Heero to willing move to include Duo in his just reminded the boy how unclean he was currently. "Didn't feel like talking."

heero-for-hire

"You usually do."

This response did not come quick, as an accusation would have. It arrived calmly, as a quiet fact that held no consequence. The pilots did not know each other well. The predicaments that they had partnered through had not resulted in meaningful conversations or any attempt on Heero's part to announce a friendship. And yet, it would seem he had been paying close attention - close enough, at least, to know that silence was not comfortable or common for Duo Maxwell. He observed the boy's heap of blankets a moment longer before sharpening the topic.

"This won't help. You need to get up."

duoordie

Cobalt eyes moved back to the soldier. That statement from pretty much anyone else would have registered as an insult, but this was Heero. No hidden barbs or judgement here, just a cold and factual observation. Duo felt the resistance slowly bleeding from his body. He wanted to fight back, wanted to give that anger some sort of target… but there was an impulse stronger than that to just give up control for a moment. To abandon his petulant desire for pointless rebellion. After all, he was a professional rebel, no point doing it for just anybody. The sweaty boy made a sort of encompassing gesture with a nod of his head, and felt his dirty hair drag along his back from the motion. "I'm not leaving here yet."

noheero

"You don't have to leave the shelter. Just your bed." No argument. No attempt to cooperate, either. Duo remained a motionless lump. If he had been preparing himself, he hadn't done so fast enough to satisfy. His blanket began to uncoil. It surrendered corners of him to the room and threatened to escape his pouting palms. Any attempt to recapture it would result in a cruel yank.

Woosh

Peeled away like a bandaid.

duoordie

The great wall of blankets the Maxwell boy had built for himself began to diminish. Unhesitating hands moved steadily, peeling them away. Only once did he stubbornly try to hold on, before the fabric was pulled from his hands. Duo just let his body go limp. If Heero wanted to do everything, then fine. Let him. The braided boy simply let himself be moved, before long the warm air of the safe house touched uncared for skin. Call him childish, he didn't care. Duo just looked at his companion with raised eyebrows, still laying prone on the stained mattress. "This place doesn't exactly have a lot of leg room, buddy."

noheero

Heero's knee sank into the mattress near Duo's ribcage. It penetrated, causing concealed springs to whine as he knelt forward and pulled one, lifeless arms over his shoulders. He lodged himself close and became a pulley system. Duo was lifted like a fallen comrade. It seemed a necessary measure. Especially when the braided boys face lulled forward, mimicking the apathy of a corpse. 02 wasn't going to make this easy. Today, he was the God of dead weight.

Source: noheero

duoordie

Duo felt himself being moved, and then pulled up. Of course the soldier could just dead lift him, the messy boy let his head roll around before catching site of his fellow pilot's face. No expression at all. "Okay, okay." He'd had his fun, but this was getting embarrassing. Duo gave a weak shove at Heero's shoulder before giving a shallow surrender motion with his hands and rising to his feet in his own. Fabric chafed the sensitive skin between his dick and his thigh, the Maxwell boy tugged on his shorts and pulled them back into place, though no amount of pulling could make him look presentable now. And speaking of dicks… Duo turned back to Heero. "There, I'm vertical. What now boss?"

noheero

-Continued on next post-

God of Grief

Duo was still Duo - even while in mourning. His voice held it's grit. He could still argue, shove and squabble. He was still a fifteen year old boy, with fifteen-year-old-boy-boxer-tendencies. Heero relented. He remained where he had been shoved to. "…clean up." An expression would have been too much to ask. It was a rarity for Yuy to emote. And he seemed particularly unwilling to try as Duo begrudgingly shuffled towards the bathroom.

There was no door. There was no need for privacy because Duo's bunker had been built for one. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't need a barrier to soften the slap of his feet against the metal floor. Or the thunk of him taking a seat on the covered toilet, (or maybe it was the side of the tub.) A knob squeaked. Pipes sputtered to spew uneven bursts of water. Yuy remained with his back to it all. He took the opportunity to study the humble sleeping area Maxwell had made for himself.

It was impressive, really.

His attempt at a 'home'.

duoordie

Duo glowered at his bunker's invader, his lips pursing and an eyebrow raising as though he was preparing to argue. Near violet eyes looked at his current company… before deciding to relent for just a moment. He could feel the salt of dried sweat in a layer across his skin, an uncomfortable sensation of a barely there itch was his body's way of telling him that the other boy was right. He did need to clean up. "…fiinnnne." The Maxwell boy held the 'n' sound with a stress akin to a groan, before waving his hand in a non-committal wave and stepping around the other brunet. Bare feet hit a cold floor, side stepping the trash without even bothering to kick it out of the way.

The agitated boy glanced at Heero for just a moment, but the taciturn individual showed no reaction as the other occupant of the space disappeared around the corner into the bathroom. Duo opened the shower stall door, before turning the knob to begin the flow of water. He was lucky to have hot water here, but it took a while to get going. The thin boy plopped down on the lidded toilet to wait. Part of him really wanted to annoy Yuy. Really needle him. Yet he couldn't really pin point why. Maybe just a moment of petty revenge, for making him feel uncomfortable. Put them in the same leaky boat the church mouse sank in. The braided boy considered just getting in the shower with his clothing on, but disregarded it. His limbs felt like they were weighed down, but he threw his meager coverings away, out of the bathroom to hit weakly against the wall and crumple into a smelly heap with the rest of the refuse.

Pilot 02 pushed his fingers in the spray, it was still cold but tolerable. it would warm eventually. Duo got into the stall, and closed the door behind him. The latch clicked, but offered no real protection. The door was simply there to keep the water in, it's warped glass did little to conceal the space inside. A small shelf was built into the corner, a single bottle of soap adorned it. It was the standard men's type wash, you could use it to clean your hair, body, pits, and the walls if you tried hard enough. Nothing else cluttered the space. The thin boy let himself lean against the wall, it felt like he had no spirit in him now that he was alone again. No one to puff up his chest for. Eye lids drooped heavily, and he let the slowly warming water pelt him.

noheero

Candy wrappers, soda cans. A couple of water bottles that had been empty long enough not to harbor droplets. Maxwell probably hadn't eaten anything substantial for a while. Heero took a mental note before stepping over the evidence.

There wasn't much to study in the bunker. The surveillance system was functional, but not expert. Duo could of done better. 01 bent to admire his little creation below the monitor - a miniature model of XXXG-01D, assembled from tiny nuts, bolts and bits of scrap metal. It had clearly taken priority.

His eyes dipped lower, scanning over exposed wires and a dirty sock. Had 02's cockpit been like this? Or were his living conditions reflective of depression? Heero was sure he'd seen a bag of chips floating in the background of a transmission, once.

A hiccuping sound escaped the restroom. It was slight, nearly blending with the fall of water. But Maxwell's voice was a little too unique to be subdued. It had a way of cutting through and carrying far.

duoordie

Water slid down pale skin, slowly rinsing off bits of dirt and grime, though unaided by any attempt at real cleanliness. Duo wanted to pretend he felt nothing, but the growing tightness in his chest pulled his attention inward. A sensation akin to nausea and a burning in his eyes just increased the feeling of loathing he harbored. Only the fear of the other pilot coming in to obverse his weakness held back the true physical expression of his condition. Knees bent forward, gravity doing more to bring the braided boy to the floor of the shower than actual willed motion. Now room temperature water hit the top of his head, coursing down and through oily hair hardly held back by a frayed elastic. Thin fingers removed the band, throwing it at the shelves without really caring where it landed.

Duo just watched the water swirl down the drain as he sat on the bottom of the shower, his breathing shallow as he rested his head against the wall, pulling his legs closer to his body. He felt fatigued, in his soul. He'd been defeated, captured, beaten, his outside self destroyed as part of a spectacle for all to watch. A shuddering breath left him, an awkward hiccup that echoed back to him before he brought up a hand to cover his mouth. The bony extremity covered thin lips. Every breath just increased the desire to sob.

noheero

He should have followed through; released the pressure that had been welling up inside of his throat. Stifling it did no good against the sharp ears of Heero Yuy. There would be no verbal warning. Duo wouldn't receive so much as a knock before the shower door was yanked open to expose his nakedness…and misery. The culprit was fully dressed. He observed the cramped space, then the placement of Duo's knees, then his half-wet hair.

Heero's mouth twitched at one corner to convey aimless disapproval. "Too small." He confirmed flatly before reaching for Duo's arm. "This way, sit here." His words were vague, but his pull wasn't. He rearranged the other to sit with his back to the open air. Before an argument could arise, chilly goo dripped over 02's scalp. The soap cap snapped shut and fingers began untangling the middle of his broken braid.

duoordie

The shower had finally begun to heat, but Duo couldn't really appreciate it. He continued to feel assaulted by a need to express his anguish. He'd filled this safe house with tears before, but now that there was a possible observer to his theatrics he could not convince himself to partake. His free arm encircled itself about his ribs, feeling the shaking breaths expand the bony structure just enough to detect before shrinking back down.

The latch barely had time to announce the intruder before the shower door was yanked open, the insufficient shield had become momentarily invaluable and it's removal caused Duo to press more of himself to the wall before his retreat was countered and he was forced to move closer to the other pilot. The Japanese boy's hands moved with undeniable certainly, and even as an irritated retort formed in the wet boy's mind it died before it could get to his mouth. Violet eyes now faced the wall, while Pilot 01 loomed behind him, seemingly uncaring if he too was rendered wet by the spray. Gooseflesh raised on his exposed back, even as warm water continued to bear down on him. "Heero..?" The start of a question was cut off by the sound of the soap bottle's cap, and the feeling of the solution being poured onto his head. Duo's shoulders rose up closer to his ears, like rooks on either end of the chess board trying to defend their king, but Yuy had already infiltrated the line of defense.

The tug and distinctive feel of fingers in his hair set Duo's teeth on edge. An incredible feeling of anxiety lanced up his spine. Duo touched people all the time, leaning on them and propping his elbow against them in a friendly manner… but he was not touched in return. Consented physical contact was a one way street, and Heero was driving against the current. The vulnerable boy couldn't think, couldn't formulate how to make the other person stop… a wisp of the soaps fragrance distracted his nose. It'd been hard, finding a men's soap with any sort of smell resembling flowers… he'd ended up adding the essence he wanted on his own. Creeping myrtle, the small periwinkle flowers had grown wild around the Maxwell Church. The smell was faint, but it brought back memories of when the sister had finally caught him and convinced him that if he wasn't going to cut his hair he should at least wear it neatly. Slowly, purposefully, the distressed boy's shoulders lowered. "Start from the bottom. Please." The words had an odd cadence, off rhythm from his usual cheer. They were uttered quietly. Carefully. The first honestly shared glimpse on the pain the other boy was trying desperately to mask.

noheero

01 had knelt to better reach Maxwell's tangles. His eyes darted to the back of the other boys head. At the same time, his clumsy tugging stopped. Heero's hands retreated. Their actions hadn't seemed too tenacious amidst the static of distress, when the sounds of water and upset had promised a warzone. But Duo's request had changed the atmosphere. It had infected the air with melancholy.

'From the bottom.'

He could do that. He would start over. This time, with consideration. Heero's fingers obediently began unravelling Duo's hair from it's ends. They paused to occasionally pluck a knot to pieces, but they never pulled. After a few minutes, He surrendered to a sitting position with the soles of his sneakers pressed against showers threshold.

Duo's hair was so long.

duoordie

Mission oriented fingers moved through neglected hair, the short tugs to untangle knots lulled the boy's head from side to side. So many contradicting feelings rose up inside him. Duo let his eyes close, and felt his breathing begin to level even as the tears began in earnest. His shoulders shook just a little, the only evidence visible to the other pilot that the wet boy was crying. The tears just joined the water already raining down on him. He felt disappointed in him himself, shame for being beaten and caught by useless dolls. He could defend himself of course, anyone would have a hard time if they'd been floating in space for a few days and then a bunch of soulless wrecks hit you up for a fight. That feeble attempt at an excuse didn't make him feel any better.

Duo felt the other boy's progress up his back, unhesitating fingers occasionally touching the skin along his spine while they worked. Of all the things inside the demoralized boy right now, one question burned the brightest. Why was Heero of all people the one to track him down. He should have been left alone here, but 01 had come to find him, and seemingly offer some sort of soldier-y comfort? Their link as Gundam pilots was the only real thing between them. Duo had of course tried to be friendly with the other, helping him with his machine, even giving him a place to sleep before he blasted off into the damn sunset with parts picked off of Deathscythe… it had taken a few days to sort out everything he'd made off with.

He wanted to ask, but the question was like lead on his tongue, weighing the muscle down. He didn't even know what answer he would get. There wasn't a good or bad answer, just an enigma. So, Duo picked his second best option. "…thank you." The words were stuttered between sobs, as the long haired boy cried into the shower. He was 15, and he'd seen more death, murder, and suffering than anyone ever should, much less a child. He felt like he could be forgiven this one true loss of composure.

noheero

"No problem."

Casual. As if he hadn't really heard Duo's gratitude; as if he'd just passed a fork over a table of takeout without bothering to look up from his own chow mein. 'No problem.' His fingers bloomed against the nape of Duo's neck, combing out remnants of styled tightness. Maxwell's back expanded, becoming a shield over full lungs until they collapsed in sobs and sent tremors down both shoulders. Heero continued working without comment.

God of Grief

Water ricocheted over His shins and wetted his shoes. His fingers crowned the other boy's hairline. They had intended to comb backwards, but encountered an unexpected surrender before doing so. Duo's head tilted back. Not a lot. Not dramatically. Just enough to make his hair coil in Heero's lap. Bubbles streamed down each stand like cream moving through coffee…and it was beautiful.

Beautiful?

Not really a word Heero considered often. It didn't belong on Battlefields or in mission reports. Apparently, it resided in a moldy bathroom on L2. And it had the ability to reroute his hands. Heero's fingers slid from Duo's bangs to his temples. They swept over the curvature of 02's throat just before gripping the shoulders he'd struggled so fiercely to control. Because to hold, was to console. To hold was to preserve a thing of beauty.

God of Grief

Water ricocheted over His shins and wetted his shoes. His fingers crowned the other boy's hairline. They had intended to comb backwards, but encountered an unexpected surrender before doing so. Duo's head tilted back. Not a lot. Not dramatically. Just enough to make his hair coil in Heero's lap. Bubbles streamed down each stand like cream moving through coffee…and it was beautiful.

Beautiful?

Not really a word Heero considered often. It didn't belong on Battlefields or in mission reports. Apparently, it resided in a moldy bathroom on L2. And it had the ability to reroute his hands. Heero's fingers slid from Duo's bangs to his temples. They swept over the curvature of 02's throat just before gripping the shoulders he'd struggled so fiercely to control. Because to hold, was to console. To hold was to preserve a thing of beauty.

duoordie

The shaking continued, and salt water slid down cheeks still rounded with youth. Duo did his best to remember to breathe, but it was hard to maintain any sort of control now that he had allowed the dam to fail. Heero was his confessor, and it was too late to back out now. The subtle floral scent in the air, wafting across the steam, helped the wet boy allow this to happen. The feeling of fingers in his hair was wonderful, and as dull nails made there way to his scalp he could not resit leaning back into them just a bit, droplets of hot water raining down on his face to clear the evidence of sadness.

Duo felt like he couldn't move, held in place by pleasant attention, as the hands moved in a way he did not expect. Pressure on his neck quickened his pulse for just a moment, if it was fear or something else he had no room to analyze, before the touch moved to his shoulders. The grip of a comrade. Heero had never been particularly verbose, but this contact spoke volumes. The long haired boy felt his body relax further. For the first time in years, he wsn't worried about pain… he could just be this. He could cry in the shower, and let another person protect him for just a moment, and he didn't have to be afraid. The talons of despair began to loosen on his heart.

noheero

Relaxation was not Rejuvenation, but it was a step in the right direction. Heero watched the stiffness wash away from Duo's spine. 02 was an obvious kind of guy; just as upfront with his body language as he was with his words. There were no hidden messages between the lines of Duo Maxwell.

As his seizing dwindled to an occasional hiccup, Heero began to withdraw. His knees pulled back from either side of Duo's rib cage. His hands fell away, along with the security they'd offered. Gentle abandonment, because the water was growing tepid and Heero's capacity to comfort had been overextended.

He stepped from the bathroom to stand in the middle of Duo's bunker with sopping-wet socks. They bled water over the edges of his shoes, creating a puddle and thereby tangible evidence of what had just transpired.

Heero's right arm lifted, numbly covering his nose and lips with one wrist. Wildflowers. Similar to the ones that had perfumed the wind that day. Before everything had been blackened by fire. The scent was a callback to inner chaos - a conjoining factor between the pilots.

God of Grief

Water ricocheted over His shins and wetted his shoes. His fingers crowned the other boy's hairline. They had intended to comb backwards, but encountered an unexpected surrender before doing so. Duo's head tilted back. Not a lot. Not dramatically. Just enough to make his hair coil in Heero's lap. Bubbles streamed down each stand like cream moving through coffee…and it was beautiful.

Beautiful?

Not really a word Heero considered often. It didn't belong on Battlefields or in mission reports. Apparently, it resided in a moldy bathroom on L2. And it had the ability to reroute his hands. Heero's fingers slid from Duo's bangs to his temples. They swept over the curvature of 02's throat just before gripping the shoulders he'd struggled so fiercely to control. Because to hold, was to console. To hold was to preserve a thing of beauty.

duoordie

The shaking continued, and salt water slid down cheeks still rounded with youth. Duo did his best to remember to breathe, but it was hard to maintain any sort of control now that he had allowed the dam to fail. Heero was his confessor, and it was too late to back out now. The subtle floral scent in the air, wafting across the steam, helped the wet boy allow this to happen. The feeling of fingers in his hair was wonderful, and as dull nails made there way to his scalp he could not resit leaning back into them just a bit, droplets of hot water raining down on his face to clear the evidence of sadness.

Duo felt like he couldn't move, held in place by pleasant attention, as the hands moved in a way he did not expect. Pressure on his neck quickened his pulse for just a moment, if it was fear or something else he had no room to analyze, before the touch moved to his shoulders. The grip of a comrade. Heero had never been particularly verbose, but this contact spoke volumes. The long haired boy felt his body relax further. For the first time in years, he wsn't worried about pain… he could just be this. He could cry in the shower, and let another person protect him for just a moment, and he didn't have to be afraid. The talons of despair began to loosen on his heart.

noheero

Relaxation was not Rejuvenation, but it was a step in the right direction. Heero watched the stiffness wash away from Duo's spine. 02 was an obvious kind of guy; just as upfront with his body language as he was with his words. There were no hidden messages between the lines of Duo Maxwell.

As his seizing dwindled to an occasional hiccup, Heero begin to withdraw. His knees pulled back from either side of Duo's rib cage. His hands fell away, along with the security they'd offered. Gentle abandonment, because the water was growing tepid and Heero's capacity to comfort had been overextended.

He stepped from the bathroom to stand in the middle of Duo's bunker with sopping-wet socks. They bled water over the edges of his shoes, creating a puddle and thereby tangible evidence of what had just transpired.

Heero's right arm lifted, numbly covering his nose and lips with one wrist. Wildflowers. Similar to the ones that had perfumed the wind that day. Before it had been blackened by smoke. The scent was a callback to inner chaos - a conjoining factor between the pilots. It echoed Heero's reason for visiting.

duoordie

The water began to lose it's heat, and Duo felt more than heard Heero's retreat from the bathroom. Steam eased through the open door, it would not stay warm for much longer. The naked boy stood up, grabbed the soap and actually made himself clean for the first time in days. Slick hands ridding himself of grime and sweat, all the things he didn't want holding on to him went down the drain in the trail of bubbles. He took a deep breath, dark blue eyes closing to enjoy the effort of drawing in air until his ribs expanded to their fullest point, and then releasing it all at once. The demoralized boy let his head fall back into the spray of cooling water, the weight of wet hair making it easy, to be sure all the soap was rinsed from him before a thin hand moved to turn of the shower off. Water dripped from every part of his body, and the sudden silence of the safe house made his ears ring.

Silence. He wondered for a moment if the other pilot had left, before a slight shuffling noise alerted him of the other's continued presence. Duo pulled his hair over his shoulder and began to wring the excess water from it, twisting it like a dish rag. Once he felt his hair was no longer holding five pounds of wetness captive, he reached out and around the shower door to grab a towel. Most of the things in his bunker were cheaply made, but the towels he kept were almost plush. Gotta have a luxury or two. Duo heard the air vents open and the fans start, freshly recycled air circulating through the place. Heero must have found the environmental controls in the wall panel. Dexterous hands quickly wrapped the towel around slim hips, before going to join the other boy.

noheero

Heero hadn't made any effort to investigate discretely. He could have. Instead, he'd left wires askew and books displaced; rearrangements that didn't necessarily worsen the mess Duo had been living in, as much as emphasize the attention of an outside force.

The mini-fridge fell closed. It's familiar half-suction-sound was no longer accompanied by rattling bottles because it had lost them all to Duo's week of seclusion. Heero lazily placed a shoulder against the kitchen's entryway and crossed his arms. "Looks like you're all out of Starzbarz."

02's eyes had been washed pale. Their color seemed abrasive against the borders of his irises and the still-red edges of his face. Loose hair, a bare body, no grin. All of it made him appear foreign. Heero stared unapologetically, reflecting on thoughts that would never be shared

God of Grief

Water ricocheted over His shins and wetted his shoes. His fingers crowned the other boy's hairline. They had intended to comb backwards, but encountered an unexpected surrender before doing so. Duo's head tilted back. Not a lot. Not dramatically. Just enough to make his hair coil in Heero's lap. Bubbles streamed down each stand like cream moving through coffee…and it was beautiful.

Beautiful?

Not really a word Heero considered often. It didn't belong on Battlefields or in mission reports. Apparently, it resided in a moldy bathroom on L2. And it had the ability to reroute his hands. Heero's fingers slid from Duo's bangs to his temples. They swept over the curvature of 02's throat just before gripping the shoulders he'd struggled so fiercely to control. Because to hold, was to console. To hold was to preserve a thing of beauty.

duoordie

The shaking continued, and salt water slid down cheeks still rounded with youth. Duo did his best to remember to breathe, but it was hard to maintain any sort of control now that he had allowed the dam to fail. Heero was his confessor, and it was too late to back out now. The subtle floral scent in the air, wafting across the steam, helped the wet boy allow this to happen. The feeling of fingers in his hair was wonderful, and as dull nails made there way to his scalp he could not resit leaning back into them just a bit, droplets of hot water raining down on his face to clear the evidence of sadness.

Duo felt like he couldn't move, held in place by pleasant attention, as the hands moved in a way he did not expect. Pressure on his neck quickened his pulse for just a moment, if it was fear or something else he had no room to analyze, before the touch moved to his shoulders. The grip of a comrade. Heero had never been particularly verbose, but this contact spoke volumes. The long haired boy felt his body relax further. For the first time in years, he wsn't worried about pain… he could just be this. He could cry in the shower, and let another person protect him for just a moment, and he didn't have to be afraid. The talons of despair began to loosen on his heart.

noheero

Relaxation was not Rejuvenation, but it was a step in the right direction. Heero watched the stiffness wash away from Duo's spine. 02 was an obvious kind of guy; just as upfront with his body language as he was with his words. There were no hidden messages between the lines of Duo Maxwell.

As his seizing dwindled to an occasional hiccup, Heero begin to withdraw. His knees pulled back from either side of Duo's rib cage. His hands fell away, along with the security they'd offered. Gentle abandonment, because the water was growing tepid and Heero's capacity to comfort had been overextended.

He stepped from the bathroom to stand in the middle of Duo's bunker with sopping-wet socks. They bled water over the edges of his shoes, creating a puddle and thereby tangible evidence of what had just transpired.

Heero's right arm lifted, numbly covering his nose and lips with one wrist. Wildflowers. Similar to the ones that had perfumed the wind that day. Before it had been blackened by smoke. The scent was a callback to inner chaos - a conjoining factor between the pilots. It echoed Heero's reason for visiting.

duoordie

The water began to lose it's heat, and Duo felt more than heard Heero's retreat from the bathroom. Steam eased through the open door, it would not stay warm for much longer. The naked boy stood up, grabbed the soap and actually made himself clean for the first time in days. Slick hands ridding himself of grime and sweat, all the things he didn't want holding on to him went down the drain in the trail of bubbles. He took a deep breath, dark blue eyes closing to enjoy the effort of drawing in air until his ribs expanded to their fullest point, and then releasing it all at once. The demoralized boy let his head fall back into the spray of cooling water, the weight of wet hair making it easy, to be sure all the soap was rinsed from him before a thin hand moved to turn of the shower off. Water dripped from every part of his body, and the sudden silence of the safe house made his ears ring.

Silence. He wondered for a moment if the other pilot had left, before a slight shuffling noise alerted him of the other's continued presence. Duo pulled his hair over his shoulder and began to wring the excess water from it, twisting it like a dish rag. Once he felt his hair was no longer holding five pounds of wetness captive, he reached out and around the shower door to grab a towel. Most of the things in his bunker were cheaply made, but the towels he kept were almost plush. Gotta have a luxury or two. Duo heard the air vents open and the fans start, freshly recycled air circulating through the place. Heero must have found the environmental controls in the wall panel. Dexterous hands quickly wrapped the towel around slim hips, before going to join the other boy.

noheero

Heero hadn't made any effort to investigate discretely. He could have. Instead, he'd left wires askew and books displaced; rearrangements that didn't necessarily worsen the mess Duo had been living in, as much as emphasize the attention of an outside force.

The mini-fridge fell closed. It's familiar half-suction-sound was no longer accompanied by rattling bottles because it had lost them all to Duo's week of seclusion. Heero lazily placed a shoulder against the kitchen's entryway and crossed his arms. "Looks like you're all out of Starzbarz."

02's eyes had been washed pale. Their color seemed abrasive against the borders of his irises and the still-red edges of his face. Loose hair, a bare body, no grin. All of it made him appear foreign. Heero stared unapologetically, reflecting on thoughts that would never be shared.

duoordie

Reddened eyes made a quick sweep of his still messy enclosure. The cool air moving through made breathing easier, though it raised goose bumps on exposed skin. Duo couldn't help but purse his lips a bit at the other's comment. It was true, his real rations had been depleted days ago, so he'd only had the easy sugar and carbs from the candy to take up the place in his stomach. Even with his diminished appetite, he had run out of food more than a day ago. "They don't exactly have a pizza joint nearby." The still drying boy shrugged. There were better areas of L2, where if you had money you could buy some pretty decent grub, but it hadn't been high on the list of priorities.

noheero

Duo turned to carryout his routine. Or some semblance of it. He seemed lost, second guessing his own movements and lingering in the space between where his hairbrush rested and a box of unsorted laundry sat. Demands prodded at his back, unwilling to accommodate his lethargic agenda.

"I need food and air."

Heero Yuy didn't make announcements. He didn't make announcements because he didn't like to invite company, especially the kind that made him wait. But, tonight he was was breaking both rules- expressing exactly what he wanted and waiting to take action. "Put on something discrete," He glanced towards the surveillance system. "We're going out."

Source: noheero

God of Grief

'Can you hand me that hair tie?'

Heero immediately complied. It wasn't a new request. They'd spent only slivers of time together; strange increments under strange circumstances that ended without goodbyes, but…somehow Duo had fit, 'hand me that hair tie,' into several of them. Not because he was ever in need of one, but because he made a point of collecting wayward elastics.

It was new to witness the braiding process. The way his fingers moved, was almost hypnotizing. Heero studied their thoughtless route while waiting at arm's length. He remained quiet (and oblivious to the sideways glance his interest earned.) When Maxwell had finished he allowed his hands to drop heavily, but not before shrugging out a silent "What?' He stared at his observer as if commentary was owed.

Heero commented.

"Looks like a string of pastry."

—

By the time the pair stepped from Duos shack, the colony was in it's early phase of evening. Everything had turned a little warmer in color, reflecting the oranges and pinks of sunset. Heero and Duo meandered between broken transports and piled computer tech. Treasure, if one knew what piece they were looking for.

God of Grief

'Can you hand me that hair tie?'

Heero immediately complied. It wasn't a new request. They'd spent only slivers of time together; strange increments under strange circumstances that ended without goodbyes, but…somehow Duo had fit, 'hand me that hair tie,' into several of them. Not because he was ever in need of one, but because he made a point of collecting wayward elastics.

It was new to witness the braiding process. The way his fingers moved, was almost hypnotizing. Heero studied their thoughtless route while waiting at arm's length. He remained quiet (and oblivious to the sideways glance his interest earned.) When Maxwell had finished he allowed his hands to drop heavily, but not before shrugging out a silent "What?' He stared at his observer as if commentary was owed.

Heero commented.

"Looks like a string of pastry."

—

By the time the pair stepped from Duos shack, the colony was in it's early phase of evening. Everything had turned a little warmer in color, reflecting the oranges and pinks of sunset. Heero and Duo meandered between broken transports and piled computer tech. Treasure, if one knew what piece they were looking for.

duoordie

Dexterous made quick work completing the chosen task, despite the unusual audience. Duo took the hair tie from Heero with a muttered thanks before trying off the end of his braid and flipping it over his shoulder. The hair was still a bit moist, but that had only made it easier to fit it into the normal pattern of organization. He felt blue eyes still lingering on him, and the now re-braided boy shrugged at the other, a silent inquiry into what he found so fascinating. The stoic boys commentary just left Duo feeling puzzled. "..okay." He turned and quickly grabbed a shirt, as well as a dark jacket and pushed his now sock covered feet into a pair of boots. Since Heero had specifically requested he be discrete he left his usual roman collar behind, and instead grabbed Sister Helen's silver cross. He quickly clasped the shining chain behind his neck before tucking it into his shirt without a word, the cold metal heating quickly to his skins temperature. Everything he needed was already into the pockets of the well worn jacket, so as soon as it's weight settled onto thin shoulders he was ready to exit his hiding place for the first time in near a week.

Duo hesitated. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to curl back up in his pile of blankets and sleep. Near violet eyes glanced at his unexpected companion and quickly disregarded the idea. He was already dressed, and he did need to eat. Better to just get it done. He moved to the security terminal and quickly activated the systems so that should anyone find his little haven he would be alerted, though that was unlikely. "Come on." A slight bob of his head accompanied the statement, before the brunet boy began making his way to the exit, freshly groomed hair swinging behind him."

The artificial sunlight outside was just entering the dimming cycle, so now was a good time to go out. Shops would still be open, but most people would be tired and headed home. No one was going to pay attention to a couple of teenagers out for a night of mischief. A brief glance confirmed Heero locking the safe house behind them, and then they were on the move. This was Duo's element. He lead them through back alleys, over fences, and though hidden access points. He'd been raised on streets just like these, and had taken the time to learn the lay out around his chosen spot. Despite the usual theatrics to his actions and his naturally sociable personality, when sneaking from one place to another there was somehow a grace to his lanky body. The smell of food began to permeate the air as Duo lead them round to a small diner he favored. Now that he had been forced out of his hole, his aching body craved something warm.

noheero

It was easy to place confidence in Duo. At least, where urban navigation was concerned. He always seemed to know where he was going and how to the avoid crowded routes. Maxwell's shortcuts never failed. He never paused to reconsider his actions. Heero followed contentedly, just shy of his leader's right shoulder.

He didn't bother to make conversation, which was typical. Usually, Duo did the talking. None tonight, though. Heero kept his eyes on the sway of sulking shoulders. He noted the way his peers hands hid themselves in lose pockets. Clutching at lint or fabric or secrets.

The diner Duo chose was small and familiar. It's flickering, neon sign was exclusive to the colonies and promised cheap, edible food…along with pleather seats and gum-lined tables.

"Just you two, then?" Their waitress waited for an answer because she had to. She looked just as tired as the frayed menus. "-Yeah." Heero would be the one to confirm her assumption, even through she'd been staring at the other boy - one she knew, just a little. Who had a tendency to flirt with her even though she was 30-something and he couldn't have been over sixteen.

God of Grief

'Can you hand me that hair tie?'

Heero immediately complied. It wasn't a new request. They'd spent only slivers of time together; strange increments under strange circumstances that ended without goodbyes, but…somehow Duo had fit, 'hand me that hair tie,' into several of them. Not because he was ever in need of one, but because he made a point of collecting wayward elastics.

It was new to witness the braiding process. The way his fingers moved, was almost hypnotizing. Heero studied their thoughtless route while waiting at arm's length. He remained quiet (and oblivious to the sideways glance his interest earned.) When Maxwell had finished he allowed his hands to drop heavily, but not before shrugging out a silent "What?' He stared at his observer as if commentary was owed.

Heero commented.

"Looks like a string of pastry."

—

By the time the pair stepped from Duos shack, the colony was in it's early phase of evening. Everything had turned a little warmer in color, reflecting the oranges and pinks of sunset. Heero and Duo meandered between broken transports and piled computer tech. Treasure, if one knew what piece they were looking for.

duoordie

Dexterous made quick work completing the chosen task, despite the unusual audience. Duo took the hair tie from Heero with a muttered thanks before trying off the end of his braid and flipping it over his shoulder. The hair was still a bit moist, but that had only made it easier to fit it into the normal pattern of organization. He felt blue eyes still lingering on him, and the now re-braided boy shrugged at the other, a silent inquiry into what he found so fascinating. The stoic boys commentary just left Duo feeling puzzled. "..okay." He turned and quickly grabbed a shirt, as well as a dark jacket and pushed his now sock covered feet into a pair of boots. Since Heero had specifically requested he be discrete he left his usual roman collar behind, and instead grabbed Sister Helen's silver cross. He quickly clasped the shining chain behind his neck before tucking it into his shirt without a word, the cold metal heating quickly to his skins temperature. Everything he needed was already into the pockets of the well worn jacket, so as soon as it's weight settled onto thin shoulders he was ready to exit his hiding place for the first time in near a week.

Duo hesitated. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to curl back up in his pile of blankets and sleep. Near violet eyes glanced at his unexpected companion and quickly disregarded the idea. He was already dressed, and he did need to eat. Better to just get it done. He moved to the security terminal and quickly activated the systems so that should anyone find his little haven he would be alerted, though that was unlikely. "Come on." A slight bob of his head accompanied the statement, before the brunet boy began making his way to the exit, freshly groomed hair swinging behind him."

The artificial sunlight outside was just entering the dimming cycle, so now was a good time to go out. Shops would still be open, but most people would be tired and headed home. No one was going to pay attention to a couple of teenagers out for a night of mischief. A brief glance confirmed Heero locking the safe house behind them, and then they were on the move. This was Duo's element. He lead them through back alleys, over fences, and though hidden access points. He'd been raised on streets just like these, and had taken the time to learn the lay out around his chosen spot. Despite the usual theatrics to his actions and his naturally sociable personality, when sneaking from one place to another there was somehow a grace to his lanky body. The smell of food began to permeate the air as Duo lead them round to a small diner he favored. Now that he had been forced out of his hole, his aching body craved something warm.

noheero

It was easy to place confidence in Duo. At least, where urban navigation was concerned. He always seemed to know where he was going and how to the avoid crowded routes. Maxwell's shortcuts never failed. He never paused to reconsider his actions. Heero followed contentedly, just shy of his leader's right shoulder.

He didn't bother to make conversation, which was typical. Usually, Duo did the talking. None tonight, though. Heero kept his eyes on the sway of sulking shoulders. He noted the way his peers hands hid themselves in lose pockets. Clutching at lint or fabric or secrets.

The diner Duo chose was small and familiar. It's flickering, neon sign was exclusive to the colonies and promised cheap, edible food…along with pleather seats and gum-lined tables.

"Just you two, then?" Their waitress waited for an answer because she had to. She looked just as tired as the frayed menus. "-Yeah." Heero would be the one to confirm her assumption, even through she'd been staring at the other boy - one she knew, just a little. Who had a tendency to flirt with her even though she was 30-something and he couldn't have been over sixteen.

duoordie

The diner was small and appeared grimier than it was, but somehow comfortable. The waitress lead them to the back most booth, which resided in a corner backed by a brick wall that had been painted a hundred times. Defensible. Duo's semi-usual seat. He'd done some work for the owner, fixed a few kitchen appliances that had been more than neglected, and so the food here would be cheap. "Thanks Beth," Duo said quickly as he slid into his side of the booth, cheap pleather making an uncomfortable effort to stick to the bottom of his jeans. "We won't need much tonight, so feel free to take a break." He added a wink, for a touch of his usual mood. She slid them each a menu with a promise to be back in a few minutes for their orders.

As the waitress retreated Duo pushed his menu to the side, he already knew what he wanted. "Don't order anything with chicken, and you'll be fine." He made sure to keep his voice low enough that only Heero would hear him.

noheero

"Mm hm." Heero hummed absently while opening his menu. The waitress came and went, jotting down Duo's order before he'd finished speaking and nodding to his friend's specification of "Same." Easy customers. She left them with ice water, which Heero immediately downed.

He then settled into a stare.

01 was always staring at something. Usually a computer screen or an open manual- rarely another person's face. People got prolonged glances at best. Nothing like the devout interest Duo was currently receiving. 02 was setting some kind of record for the slate-blue eyes beyond the table. Heero was either questioning or expecting something from him. He was trying to read him, like one of his mecha manuals.

God of Grief

'Can you hand me that hair tie?'

Heero immediately complied. It wasn't a new request. They'd spent only slivers of time together; strange increments under strange circumstances that ended without goodbyes, but…somehow Duo had fit, 'hand me that hair tie,' into several of them. Not because he was ever in need of one, but because he made a point of collecting wayward elastics.

It was new to witness the braiding process. The way his fingers moved, was almost hypnotizing. Heero studied their thoughtless route while waiting at arm's length. He remained quiet (and oblivious to the sideways glance his interest earned.) When Maxwell had finished he allowed his hands to drop heavily, but not before shrugging out a silent "What?' He stared at his observer as if commentary was owed.

Heero commented.

"Looks like a string of pastry."

—

By the time the pair stepped from Duos shack, the colony was in it's early phase of evening. Everything had turned a little warmer in color, reflecting the oranges and pinks of sunset. Heero and Duo meandered between broken transports and piled computer tech. Treasure, if one knew what piece they were looking for.

duoordie

Dexterous made quick work completing the chosen task, despite the unusual audience. Duo took the hair tie from Heero with a muttered thanks before trying off the end of his braid and flipping it over his shoulder. The hair was still a bit moist, but that had only made it easier to fit it into the normal pattern of organization. He felt blue eyes still lingering on him, and the now re-braided boy shrugged at the other, a silent inquiry into what he found so fascinating. The stoic boys commentary just left Duo feeling puzzled. "..okay." He turned and quickly grabbed a shirt, as well as a dark jacket and pushed his now sock covered feet into a pair of boots. Since Heero had specifically requested he be discrete he left his usual roman collar behind, and instead grabbed Sister Helen's silver cross. He quickly clasped the shining chain behind his neck before tucking it into his shirt without a word, the cold metal heating quickly to his skins temperature. Everything he needed was already into the pockets of the well worn jacket, so as soon as it's weight settled onto thin shoulders he was ready to exit his hiding place for the first time in near a week.

Duo hesitated. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to curl back up in his pile of blankets and sleep. Near violet eyes glanced at his unexpected companion and quickly disregarded the idea. He was already dressed, and he did need to eat. Better to just get it done. He moved to the security terminal and quickly activated the systems so that should anyone find his little haven he would be alerted, though that was unlikely. "Come on." A slight bob of his head accompanied the statement, before the brunet boy began making his way to the exit, freshly groomed hair swinging behind him."

The artificial sunlight outside was just entering the dimming cycle, so now was a good time to go out. Shops would still be open, but most people would be tired and headed home. No one was going to pay attention to a couple of teenagers out for a night of mischief. A brief glance confirmed Heero locking the safe house behind them, and then they were on the move. This was Duo's element. He lead them through back alleys, over fences, and though hidden access points. He'd been raised on streets just like these, and had taken the time to learn the lay out around his chosen spot. Despite the usual theatrics to his actions and his naturally sociable personality, when sneaking from one place to another there was somehow a grace to his lanky body. The smell of food began to permeate the air as Duo lead them round to a small diner he favored. Now that he had been forced out of his hole, his aching body craved something warm.

noheero

It was easy to place confidence in Duo. At least, where urban navigation was concerned. He always seemed to know where he was going and how to the avoid crowded routes. Maxwell's shortcuts never failed. He never paused to reconsider his actions. Heero followed contentedly, just shy of his leader's right shoulder.

He didn't bother to make conversation, which was typical. Usually, Duo did the talking. None tonight, though. Heero kept his eyes on the sway of sulking shoulders. He noted the way his peers hands hid themselves in lose pockets. Clutching at lint or fabric or secrets.

The diner Duo chose was small and familiar. It's flickering, neon sign was exclusive to the colonies and promised cheap, edible food…along with pleather seats and gum-lined tables.

"Just you two, then?" Their waitress waited for an answer because she had to. She looked just as tired as the frayed menus. "-Yeah." Heero would be the one to confirm her assumption, even through she'd been staring at the other boy - one she knew, just a little. Who had a tendency to flirt with her even though she was 30-something and he couldn't have been over sixteen.

duoordie

The diner was small and appeared grimier than it was, but somehow comfortable. The waitress lead them to the back most booth, which resided in a corner backed by a brick wall that had been painted a hundred times. Defensible. Duo's semi-usual seat. He'd done some work for the owner, fixed a few kitchen appliances that had been more than neglected, and so the food here would be cheap. "Thanks Beth," Duo said quickly as he slid into his side of the booth, cheap pleather making an uncomfortable effort to stick to the bottom of his jeans. "We won't need much tonight, so feel free to take a break." He added a wink, for a touch of his usual mood. She slid them each a menu with a promise to be back in a few minutes for their orders.

As the waitress retreated Duo pushed his menu to the side, he already knew what he wanted. "Don't order anything with chicken, and you'll be fine." He made sure to keep his voice low enough that only Heero would hear him.

noheero

"Mm hm." Heero hummed absently while opening his menu. The waitress came and went, jotting down Duo's order before he'd finished speaking and nodding to his friend's specification of "Same." Easy customers. She left them with ice water, which Heero immediately downed.

He then settled into a stare.

01 was always staring at something. Usually a computer screen or an open manual- rarely another person's face. People got prolonged glances at best. Nothing like the devout interest Duo was currently receiving. 02 was setting some kind of record for the slate-blue eyes beyond the table. Heero was either questioning or expecting something from him. He was trying to read him, like one of his mecha manuals.

duoordie

The diner had a reasonably good menu, if you knew what to avoid. Duo ordered two Hell Burgers, which is a lot more dramatic than it sounded. It was basically a hamburger stuffed with cheese and jalapenos and an over-easy egg on top. Heero's lackluster addition to the ticket prompted the braided boy to add a chocolate milkshake to the list. He'd never seen the other boy eat sweets of really any kind before, and half hoped it upset his stomach just a little bit.

The other pilots gaze fell on him… and didn't relent. Duo's eyes wondered, taking in the faded decor of the diner, and the still slowly dimming light filtering in between yellowed plastic window dressings. Still he could feel the weight of blue eyes on him, refusing to release their hold. He fiddled with the tail of his braid. Usually, it would be easy to talk to the other boy. Well, talk AT was a better description. Heero very rarely had much to contribute in that field, either telling him to be quiet for concentration's sake or simply letting him prattle on like background noise. An unusually nervousness stilled a typically overactive tongue. "…I know it doesn't look the best, but the food's pretty good here." He quietly cleared his throat, completely unsure what his companion wanted and more than a little frustrated by that situation.

noheero

"I haven't been to a restaurant in a while."

His statement came quickly, but quietly. It was an automatic response to smalltalk; an indisputable fact that was related, but left little room for elaboration. Heero had developed a habit of shutting down conversation before it could become friendly. Two more uncomfortable minutes ticked by before an effort to connect came from his side of the booth. "Are you planning to return to the field?"

duoordie

The question came with almost the weight of a blow, and Duo knew it showed on his face. Almost angry, almost hurt… ghosts of emotions flickered by, but before he could settle on a response the clink of plates being set on the table in front of the two boys gave him a much needed moment to gather himself. The waitress refilled their water and then was quick to go back into the back. Since the two boys were the only patrons, they probably wouldn't see her again for a while.

For a second, he contemplated just leaving Heero here with this mass of calories and being done with this frustrating interaction. His stomach however cast the winning vote, once that smell of the food invaded his nose. "My gundam in gone Heero. There's nothing to go back to." 'Again', his own wordless addition. The starving boy began tearing into his burger, enjoying it as much for the sensation of eating real food as well as the added benefit of it making it less of a requirement to speak.

noheero

Duo may have been done with the conversation, but Heero wasn't. His eyes followed the other's drop of face, undeterred by Maxwell's furious bites. "You don't need it. Your objective is to interfere with their plans. Cause problems. You can do that without a Gundam."

God of Grief

Duo's temper had caused everything to rattle except Heero. Pilot 01 had maintained a vacant expression while failing to flinch at the upset he'd sparked. Their discussion paused as he finally turned his attention to food. For a moment, the only sound between them was chewing. He ate a couple of fries and took a sober bite of his burger before,

"The engineers are missing."

This information was gifted with a complete lack of feeling. He'd still had his eyes on his plate while divulging it and went in for another helping of burger during it's aftermath. "Hostages, probably. They'll be dangled in front of the other pilots or executed as examples. Like your Deathscythe." Duo's milkshake would stay on Duo's side of the table. Heero had no interest in it.

noheero

God of Grief

Duo's temper had caused everything to rattle except Heero. Pilot 01 had maintained a vacant expression while failing to flinch at the upset he'd sparked. Their discussion paused as he finally turned his attention to food. For a moment, the only sound between them was chewing. He ate a couple of fries and took a sober bite of his burger before,

"The engineers are missing."

This information was gifted with a complete lack of feeling. He'd still had his eyes on his plate while divulging it and went in for another helping of burger during it's aftermath. "Hostages, probably. They'll be dangled in front of the other pilots or executed as examples. Like your Deathscythe." Duo's milkshake would stay on Duo's side of the table. Heero had no interest in it.

duoordie

The news was surprising, but not completely unexpected. Oz had plenty of resources, he was sure it hadn't taken them long once they decided to figure out where the gundams had come from. Those scientists were the avatars of pestilence, and Duo had no doubt they wold spread disease wherever Oz kept them. It was Heero's comment about Deathscythe that almost spurred the demoralized pilot to violence. His food was abandoned, slightly over half eaten. "I know you suck at playing human, soldier boy, but you need to learn when to quit." The statement was unnecessarily biting. The brunet felt a tightness in his chest, that anger he'd been harboring was beginning to burn bright enough to cause the weighted layer of depression atop it to smolder. "What did you come here to do? Mock me? Have your two laughs at my expense? You wasted a shuttle trip."

noheero

"Came to check on you."

He answered idly, between bites. The waitress stopped by to offer refills and drop the bill. "Pay whenever you're ready." Easy customers. Not the type she liked to turn into the authorities. Even if her braided regular's face had shown up on the news. To spite the broadcasts, he'd never terrorized her…and he always left a tip.

noheero

God of Grief

Duo's temper had caused everything to rattle except Heero. Pilot 01 had maintained a vacant expression while failing to flinch at the upset he'd sparked. Their discussion paused as he finally turned his attention to food. For a moment, the only sound between them was chewing. He ate a couple of fries and took a sober bite of his burger before,

"The engineers are missing."

This information was gifted with a complete lack of feeling. He'd still had his eyes on his plate while divulging it and went in for another helping of burger during it's aftermath. "Hostages, probably. They'll be dangled in front of the other pilots or executed as examples. Like your Deathscythe." Duo's milkshake would stay on Duo's side of the table. Heero had no interest in it.

duoordie

The news was surprising, but not completely unexpected. Oz had plenty of resources, he was sure it hadn't taken them long once they decided to figure out where the gundams had come from. Those scientists were the avatars of pestilence, and Duo had no doubt they wold spread disease wherever Oz kept them. It was Heero's comment about Deathscythe that almost spurred the demoralized pilot to violence. His food was abandoned, slightly over half eaten. "I know you suck at playing human, soldier boy, but you need to learn when to quit." The statement was unnecessarily biting. The brunet felt a tightness in his chest, that anger he'd been harboring was beginning to burn bright enough to cause the weighted layer of depression atop it to smolder. "What did you come here to do? Mock me? Have your two laughs at my expense? You wasted a shuttle trip."

noheero

"Came to check on you."

He answered idly, between bites. The waitress stopped by to offer refills and drop the bill. "Pay whenever you're ready." Easy customers.

duoordie

The bill was paid quickly, the last obstacle in his way. Duo stood quickly, "Well mission accomplished, pal. Enjoy your dinner." The lithe boy exited the diner, his foot falls harder than necessary as he began to head back to his bunker.

noheero

It didn't take long for a second pair of footsteps to echo behind his own; swift at first…slower as they caught up. Heero followed in the blind spot to his right. Unshakable.

"Going back to your tomb?" Duo's shoulders were so tight and so high, it was a wonder he could breathe. His braid had taken to sweeping back and forth like the tail of an angry cat. "Its a good place to lay down and die quietly. You'll be doing OZ a favor."

noheero

God of Grief

Duo's temper had caused everything to rattle except Heero. Pilot 01 had maintained a vacant expression while failing to flinch at the upset he'd sparked. Their discussion paused as he finally turned his attention to food. For a moment, the only sound between them was chewing. He ate a couple of fries and took a sober bite of his burger before,

"The engineers are missing."

This information was gifted with a complete lack of feeling. He'd still had his eyes on his plate while divulging it and went in for another helping of burger during it's aftermath. "Hostages, probably. They'll be dangled in front of the other pilots or executed as examples. Like your Deathscythe." Duo's milkshake would stay on Duo's side of the table. Heero had no interest in it.

duoordie

The news was surprising, but not completely unexpected. Oz had plenty of resources, he was sure it hadn't taken them long once they decided to figure out where the gundams had come from. Those scientists were the avatars of pestilence, and Duo had no doubt they wold spread disease wherever Oz kept them. It was Heero's comment about Deathscythe that almost spurred the demoralized pilot to violence. His food was abandoned, slightly over half eaten. "I know you suck at playing human, soldier boy, but you need to learn when to quit." The statement was unnecessarily biting. The brunet felt a tightness in his chest, that anger he'd been harboring was beginning to burn bright enough to cause the weighted layer of depression atop it to smolder. "What did you come here to do? Mock me? Have your two laughs at my expense? You wasted a shuttle trip."

noheero

"Came to check on you."

He answered idly, between bites. The waitress stopped by to offer refills and drop the bill. "Pay whenever you're ready." Easy customers.

duoordie

The bill was paid quickly, the last obstacle in his way. Duo stood quickly, "Well mission accomplished, pal. Enjoy your dinner." The lithe boy exited the diner, his foot falls harder than necessary as he began to head back to his bunker.

noheero

It didn't take long for a second pair of footsteps to echo behind his own; swift at first…slower as they caught up. Heero followed in the blind spot to his right. Unshakable.

"Going back to your tomb?" Duo's shoulders were so tight and so high, it was a wonder he could breathe. His braid had taken to sweeping back and forth like the tail of an angry cat. "Its a good place to lay down and die quietly. You'll be doing OZ a favor."

duoordie

The motion was dangerously quick and completely smooth. A pair of angry hands grabbed the front of Heero's ridicules green tank top and pushed him back against the brick wall of the alley they had been going through. And the worst part? Duo felt Heero LET HIM do it. They both knew it. Heero was easily the better trained at hand-to-hand combat, the braided pilot would be on his back the moment the other decided that was to be his fate. But that didn't happen. "What the hell do you know?!" Duo yelled, hot breath fanning over his would-be captive's face. He was irate, words coming out too fast to to think over the contents before they were spilled like bile at the other pilot's feet. "I'm not like you! I'm not the perfect soldier!" Still madly grasping hands pulled and pushed, the emotional boys heads shaking back and forth. "I got captured! I couldn't even self detonate-! I couldn't even kill myself!" He remembered, vividly trying to initiate the self destruction function of Deathscythe. Better to go out with a bang and take a few Oz Mobile Suits with him… but it had failed. Just like him. The irrational voice stuttered, his shouts echoing off uncaring walls. "I-I'm not like you."

noheero

Heero had appeared bored. Stiffly so, because his back was being scraped against brick and his instincts were at odds with pacifism. Still, he'd refused to retaliate. He became an outlet instead. It was the only way to offer solace. He could not coddle his copilot, but he could endure his violence. And did, until the alleyway grew quiet.

Duo's temper left tension in it's wake. It kept them glued together, while rendering every emotion visible. Heero had done his best impression of a ragdoll, but it hadn't camouflaged his hostile heart. His chest deflated a little too fast. The air he'd been holding fled his nose and washed warmly though the front of Duo's jacket. The muscles along his neck had become as sturdy as steel pipes.

"…We're more alike than you think. I know what you're doing to yourself, Maxwell. It's a waste of time."

noheero

God of Grief

Duo's temper had caused everything to rattle except Heero. Pilot 01 had maintained a vacant expression while failing to flinch at the upset he'd sparked. Their discussion paused as he finally turned his attention to food. For a moment, the only sound between them was chewing. He ate a couple of fries and took a sober bite of his burger before,

"The engineers are missing."

This information was gifted with a complete lack of feeling. He'd still had his eyes on his plate while divulging it and went in for another helping of burger during it's aftermath. "Hostages, probably. They'll be dangled in front of the other pilots or executed as examples. Like your Deathscythe." Duo's milkshake would stay on Duo's side of the table. Heero had no interest in it.

duoordie

The news was surprising, but not completely unexpected. Oz had plenty of resources, he was sure it hadn't taken them long once they decided to figure out where the gundams had come from. Those scientists were the avatars of pestilence, and Duo had no doubt they wold spread disease wherever Oz kept them. It was Heero's comment about Deathscythe that almost spurred the demoralized pilot to violence. His food was abandoned, slightly over half eaten. "I know you suck at playing human, soldier boy, but you need to learn when to quit." The statement was unnecessarily biting. The brunet felt a tightness in his chest, that anger he'd been harboring was beginning to burn bright enough to cause the weighted layer of depression atop it to smolder. "What did you come here to do? Mock me? Have your two laughs at my expense? You wasted a shuttle trip."

noheero

"Came to check on you."

He answered idly, between bites. The waitress stopped by to offer refills and drop the bill. "Pay whenever you're ready." Easy customers.

duoordie

The bill was paid quickly, the last obstacle in his way. Duo stood quickly, "Well mission accomplished, pal. Enjoy your dinner." The lithe boy exited the diner, his foot falls harder than necessary as he began to head back to his bunker.

noheero

It didn't take long for a second pair of footsteps to echo behind his own; swift at first…slower as they caught up. Heero followed in the blind spot to his right. Unshakable.

"Going back to your tomb?" Duo's shoulders were so tight and so high, it was a wonder he could breathe. His braid had taken to sweeping back and forth like the tail of an angry cat. "Its a good place to lay down and die quietly. You'll be doing OZ a favor."

duoordie

The motion was dangerously quick and completely smooth. A pair of angry hands grabbed the front of Heero's ridicules green tank top and pushed him back against the brick wall of the alley they had been going through. And the worst part? Duo felt Heero LET HIM do it. They both knew it. Heero was easily the better trained at hand-to-hand combat, the braided pilot would be on his back the moment the other decided that was to be his fate. But that didn't happen. "What the hell do you know?!" Duo yelled, hot breath fanning over his would-be captive's face. He was irate, words coming out too fast to to think over the contents before they were spilled like bile at the other pilot's feet. "I'm not like you! I'm not the perfect soldier!" Still madly grasping hands pulled and pushed, the emotional boys heads shaking back and forth. "I got captured! I couldn't even self detonate-! I couldn't even kill myself!" He remembered, vividly trying to initiate the self destruction function of Deathscythe. Better to go out with a bang and take a few Oz Mobile Suits with him… but it had failed. Just like him. The irrational voice stuttered, his shouts echoing off uncaring walls. "I-I'm not like you."

noheero

Heero had appeared bored. Stiffly so, because his back was being scraped against brick and his instincts were at odds with pacifism. Still, he'd refused to retaliate. He became an outlet instead. It was the only way to offer solace. He could not coddle his copilot, but he could endure his violence. And did, until the alleyway grew quiet.

Duo's temper left tension in it's wake. It kept them glued together, while rendering every emotion visible. Heero had done his best impression of a ragdoll, but it hadn't camouflaged his hostile heart. His chest deflated a little too fast. The air he'd been holding fled his nose and washed warmly though the front of Duo's jacket. The muscles along his neck had become as sturdy as steel pipes.

"…We're more alike than you think. I know what you're doing to yourself, Maxwell. It's a waste of time."

duoordie

"Yeah? And what is that?" Duo was close enough to almost be nose to nose with the other pilot, his voice was full of anger and frustration, challenging anything he could. "What exactly am I doing to myself, Yuy? Since we're on a last name basis and all." The darker set of blue eyes glared, what few inches he had on the other pilot were used as the braided boy looked down at his 'rescuer'. Fingers hungry for some outlet, be it violence or otherwise, held fast to Heero's tank top. Knuckles pushed bluntly against the other boy's chest.

noheero

Heero's lips parted to prepare for speech. His gaze remained as still and cold as stone, but his body language resembled a dog about to bite.

"-You're replaying that broadcast in your head. Over and over. It's probably your biggest screw up, but you have to be sure, so you've been counting through every failure you can remember…and realizing that there have been too damn many."

He leaned forward, diving against the other's anger instead of shrinking back from it. There had hardly been room between them, but he'd invaded what was left. Their chests touched. Heero spoke directly into Duo's ear as they stood cheek to cheek.

"It's disappointing to push that self-destruct button and have nothing happen because at that moment, you want to die. You want everything to be gone. Bet you've wanted to be done for a while."

oheero

God of Grief

Duo's temper had caused everything to rattle except Heero. Pilot 01 had maintained a vacant expression while failing to flinch at the upset he'd sparked. Their discussion paused as he finally turned his attention to food. For a moment, the only sound between them was chewing. He ate a couple of fries and took a sober bite of his burger before,

"The engineers are missing."

This information was gifted with a complete lack of feeling. He'd still had his eyes on his plate while divulging it and went in for another helping of burger during it's aftermath. "Hostages, probably. They'll be dangled in front of the other pilots or executed as examples. Like your Deathscythe." Duo's milkshake would stay on Duo's side of the table. Heero had no interest in it.

duoordie

The news was surprising, but not completely unexpected. Oz had plenty of resources, he was sure it hadn't taken them long once they decided to figure out where the gundams had come from. Those scientists were the avatars of pestilence, and Duo had no doubt they wold spread disease wherever Oz kept them. It was Heero's comment about Deathscythe that almost spurred the demoralized pilot to violence. His food was abandoned, slightly over half eaten. "I know you suck at playing human, soldier boy, but you need to learn when to quit." The statement was unnecessarily biting. The brunet felt a tightness in his chest, that anger he'd been harboring was beginning to burn bright enough to cause the weighted layer of depression atop it to smolder. "What did you come here to do? Mock me? Have your two laughs at my expense? You wasted a shuttle trip."

noheero

"Came to check on you."

He answered idly, between bites. The waitress stopped by to offer refills and drop the bill. "Pay whenever you're ready." Easy customers.

duoordie

The bill was paid quickly, the last obstacle in his way. Duo stood quickly, "Well mission accomplished, pal. Enjoy your dinner." The lithe boy exited the diner, his foot falls harder than necessary as he began to head back to his bunker.

noheero

It didn't take long for a second pair of footsteps to echo behind his own; swift at first…slower as they caught up. Heero followed in the blind spot to his right. Unshakable.

"Going back to your tomb?" Duo's shoulders were so tight and so high, it was a wonder he could breathe. His braid had taken to sweeping back and forth like the tail of an angry cat. "Its a good place to lay down and die quietly. You'll be doing OZ a favor."

duoordie

The motion was dangerously quick and completely smooth. A pair of angry hands grabbed the front of Heero's ridicules green tank top and pushed him back against the brick wall of the alley they had been going through. And the worst part? Duo felt Heero LET HIM do it. They both knew it. Heero was easily the better trained at hand-to-hand combat, the braided pilot would be on his back the moment the other decided that was to be his fate. But that didn't happen. "What the hell do you know?!" Duo yelled, hot breath fanning over his would-be captive's face. He was irate, words coming out too fast to to think over the contents before they were spilled like bile at the other pilot's feet. "I'm not like you! I'm not the perfect soldier!" Still madly grasping hands pulled and pushed, the emotional boys heads shaking back and forth. "I got captured! I couldn't even self detonate-! I couldn't even kill myself!" He remembered, vividly trying to initiate the self destruction function of Deathscythe. Better to go out with a bang and take a few Oz Mobile Suits with him… but it had failed. Just like him. The irrational voice stuttered, his shouts echoing off uncaring walls. "I-I'm not like you."

noheero

Heero had appeared bored. Stiffly so, because his back was being scraped against brick and his instincts were at odds with pacifism. Still, he'd refused to retaliate. He became an outlet instead. It was the only way to offer solace. He could not coddle his copilot, but he could endure his violence. And did, until the alleyway grew quiet.

Duo's temper left tension in it's wake. It kept them glued together, while rendering every emotion visible. Heero had done his best impression of a ragdoll, but it hadn't camouflaged his hostile heart. His chest deflated a little too fast. The air he'd been holding fled his nose and washed warmly though the front of Duo's jacket. The muscles along his neck had become as sturdy as steel pipes.

"…We're more alike than you think. I know what you're doing to yourself, Maxwell. It's a waste of time."

duoordie

"Yeah? And what is that?" Duo was close enough to almost be nose to nose with the other pilot, his voice was full of anger and frustration, challenging anything he could. "What exactly am I doing to myself, Yuy? Since we're on a last name basis and all." The darker set of blue eyes glared, what few inches he had on the other pilot were used as the braided boy looked down at his 'rescuer'. Fingers hungry for some outlet, be it violence or otherwise, held fast to Heero's tank top. Knuckles pushed bluntly against the other boy's chest.

noheero

Heero's lips parted to prepare for speech. His gaze remained as still and cold as stone, but his body language resembled a dog about to bite.

"-You're replaying that broadcast in your head. Over and over. It's probably your biggest screw up, but you have to be sure, so you've been counting through every failure you can remember…and realizing that there have been too damn many."

He leaned forward, diving against the other's anger instead of shrinking back from it. There had hardly been room between them, but he'd invaded what was left. Their chests touched. Heero spoke directly into Duo's ear as they stood cheek to cheek.

"It's disappointing to push that self-destruct button and have nothing happen because at that moment, you want to die. You want everything to be gone. Bet you've wanted to be done for a while."

duoordie

Duo felt his teeth grind together as Heero spoke, he could hear his heartbeat in his ears and his breath quickened. His vision narrowed to only Heero, blue eyes crashing against each other like waves. A tsunami versus a hurricane. He refused to back down, refused to give back any of the space he'd pushed for even as Heero leaned into it. Thin lips parted to speak, only to close again without making a sound as the other boy spoke into his ear. Their chests bumped together as they both breathed too fast. Everything else around him died, the only life the frustrated boy had ever failed to end… was his own. The severe boy's words cut him to the bone, making his stomach twist in angry contortions.

No witty or sarcastic response this time. He couldn't argue, but he sure as hell wasn't going to agree. "Screw you." Duo pushed Heero away from him and backed up a step, his hands finally releasing their hold on the green fabric of the other's top. He was angry, he wanted to ball up his fists and punch the other pilot in the face, push some of his pain into the other's body. Instead he turned quickly, and began again in the direction of his safe house.

noheero

Heero had been perched on the toes of his sneakers during their debate. He lowered to his heels upon release and watched his adversary storm from the alleyway. No attempt was made to stop or follow Duo. Heero knew where he'd end up. He'd expected the other to go back to his bunker…

…he hadn't expected the air to feel cold in his absence.

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word 'home' rang heavy. The word 'me' was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms that would be lost to the emptiness between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field."

Source: noheero

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

duoordie

"….you did." Duo muttered, unable to hold back his two cents. The words were quiet though, not really meant to be heard. Heero's change in expression took Duo by surprise, he'd only ever seen him with either a blank face or a grimace of pain. This ghost of a smile, though not a kind smile, something other than the norm, was taken as a good sign. Heero didn't seem the type to pass around even a dark smirk lightly. The braided boy smiled back, just a little. It was just as humorless as his companions, but somehow more real. "I'm glad you came." It was a strange statement, but it was true. He figured something like that would probably leave his taciturn companion with even less to say then usual.

The more expressive of the two cleared his throat, as a way to move on to a different topic. "You can stay here if you want. There isn't a lot of room, but it's free and secure from people who aren't you." Duo laughed lightly at his own joke.

noheero

Duo's appreciation derailed rather than decompressed. As expected, Heero quieted in it's wake. His smile faded. Not quickly. Not with the severity of snuffed pleasure. 01's mouth simply returned to it's usual thinness. Once again, he was contently covert.

He didn't stop staring, though.

He watched as Duo laughed. 02's bangs quivered with enthusiasm, celebrating his sense of humor. It looked good, when they did that. As the display ended, Yuy glanced down to dig beneath the top of one, yellow sneaker. "Here." He offered Duo back a slim, leather wallet. "Picked up some rations on the way back."

Source:

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

duoordie

"….you did." Duo muttered, unable to hold back his two cents. The words were quiet though, not really meant to be heard. Heero's change in expression took Duo by surprise, he'd only ever seen him with either a blank face or a grimace of pain. This ghost of a smile, though not a kind smile, something other than the norm, was taken as a good sign. Heero didn't seem the type to pass around even a dark smirk lightly. The braided boy smiled back, just a little. It was just as humorless as his companions, but somehow more real. "I'm glad you came." It was a strange statement, but it was true. He figured something like that would probably leave his taciturn companion with even less to say then usual.

The more expressive of the two cleared his throat, as a way to move on to a different topic. "You can stay here if you want. There isn't a lot of room, but it's free and secure from people who aren't you." Duo laughed lightly at his own joke.

noheero

Duo's appreciation derailed rather than decompressed. As expected, Heero quieted in it's wake. His smile faded. Not quickly. Not with the severity of snuffed pleasure. 01's mouth simply returned to it's usual thinness. Once again, he was contently covert.

He didn't stop staring, though.

He watched as Duo laughed. 02's bangs quivered with enthusiasm, celebrating his sense of humor. It looked good, when they did that. As the display ended, Yuy glanced down to dig beneath the top of one, yellow sneaker. "Here." He offered Duo back a slim, leather wallet. "Picked up some rations on the way back."

duoordie

Duo's eyebrows rose in a blatant show of surprise. "I guess I deserve that." He could only figure Heero had snatched his wallet during their almost-scuffle in the alleyway. "I didn't even feel you take it, that's talent." The mechanic reached out to collect his wallet, only to throw it on the pile of his discarded coat. He knew where it was, it would still be there later barring that Heero didn't feel the need for another shopping trip. He shouldn't be so surprised that basic pick-pocketing was part of the soldiers training, but he made a mental note to return the favor at some point. "Thanks." He said with a short nod.

The light from the bathroom outlined Heero sharply, as they shared a moment of silence. Duo remembered the old pictures of paintings he had seen in the church, of celestial beings with light shining all around them. He wasn't deluded, the soldier before him was no angel. Perhaps though, like Duo, he had also been so touched by Death he had become it's emissary. Just maybe, Heero wouldn't die like everyone else. A small seed of hope took root in a long barren heart. The other's name weighed heavy on his tongue.

noheero

They settled into their favored sleeping positions in relative silence. Duo rearranged his blankets and Heero retired flatly on top of them. They committed to sharing the mattresses in a way specific to soldiers. It didn't matter that their shoulders touched or that candy wrappers rustled somewhere under Duo's side while he was getting comfortable. They were a pair of tired nomads and thus, sober in their approach to rest.

Mostly.

Just as Heero prepared to soak in the dense peace of a dreamless sleep, Duo decided he needed to nestle differently beside him. He turned back and forth, then took up residence on his back. Heero felt the other trying to stifle a question…or a statement…or a joke. Something gently disruptive. He waited for it with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

duoordie

"….you did." Duo muttered, unable to hold back his two cents. The words were quiet though, not really meant to be heard. Heero's change in expression took Duo by surprise, he'd only ever seen him with either a blank face or a grimace of pain. This ghost of a smile, though not a kind smile, something other than the norm, was taken as a good sign. Heero didn't seem the type to pass around even a dark smirk lightly. The braided boy smiled back, just a little. It was just as humorless as his companions, but somehow more real. "I'm glad you came." It was a strange statement, but it was true. He figured something like that would probably leave his taciturn companion with even less to say then usual.

The more expressive of the two cleared his throat, as a way to move on to a different topic. "You can stay here if you want. There isn't a lot of room, but it's free and secure from people who aren't you." Duo laughed lightly at his own joke.

noheero

Duo's appreciation derailed rather than decompressed. As expected, Heero quieted in it's wake. His smile faded. Not quickly. Not with the severity of snuffed pleasure. 01's mouth simply returned to it's usual thinness. Once again, he was contently covert.

He didn't stop staring, though.

He watched as Duo laughed. 02's bangs quivered with enthusiasm, celebrating his sense of humor. It looked good, when they did that. As the display ended, Yuy glanced down to dig beneath the top of one, yellow sneaker. "Here." He offered Duo back a slim, leather wallet. "Picked up some rations on the way back."

duoordie

Duo's eyebrows rose in a blatant show of surprise. "I guess I deserve that." He could only figure Heero had snatched his wallet during their almost-scuffle in the alleyway. "I didn't even feel you take it, that's talent." The mechanic reached out to collect his wallet, only to throw it on the pile of his discarded coat. He knew where it was, it would still be there later barring that Heero didn't feel the need for another shopping trip. He shouldn't be so surprised that basic pick-pocketing was part of the soldiers training, but he made a mental note to return the favor at some point. "Thanks." He said with a short nod.

The light from the bathroom outlined Heero sharply, as they shared a moment of silence. Duo remembered the old pictures of paintings he had seen in the church, of celestial beings with light shining all around them. He wasn't deluded, the soldier before him was no angel. Perhaps though, like Duo, he had also been so touched by Death he had become it's emissary. Just maybe, Heero wouldn't die like everyone else. A small seed of hope took root in a long barren heart. The other's name weighed heavy on his tongue.

noheero

They settled into their favored sleeping positions in relative silence. Duo rearranged his blankets and Heero retired flatly on top of them. They committed to sharing the mattresses in a way specific to soldiers. It didn't matter that their shoulders touched or that candy wrappers rustled somewhere under Duo's side while he was getting comfortable. They were a pair of tired nomads and thus, sober in their approach to rest.

Mostly.

Just as Heero prepared to soak in the dense peace of a dreamless sleep, Duo decided he needed to nestle differently beside him. He turned back and forth, then took up residence on his back. Heero felt the other trying to stifle a question…or a statement…or a joke. Something gently disruptive. He waited for it with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

duoordie

A weak yawn spread Duo's mouth comically wide, and they both took it as a sign that it was time to get some actual rest. the braided boy separated out a blanket for Heero to use, only to softly laugh as the other boy just laid on top of it like a wooden board. This sort of thing wasn't uncommon in their lives. Either there were shifts for beds, or if it was big enough you just shared. When you got a chance to sleep, you took it. Dark blue eyes had the slight burn of fatigue, of needing real rest… but he found himself turning over. Once. Twice. His favored positions were suddenly uncomfortable. The desire to speak filled his mouth, pressed on his teeth. He'd been his own prisoner in this bunker for too long, and part of him could not ignore the urge to interact with his company much longer. Duo settled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, at once worried that he was being annoying but unable to stop himself. "…are you asleep?"

noheero

"No."

Heero's answer was neutral. He remained motionless on his side of the bed, waiting. Duo's desire to talk thickened the air like octane, but he failed to ignite it. Not a single word sparked. Heero allowed his head to loll so that he could watch his uncharacteristically-quiet companion.

"…You said it was you."

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

duoordie

"….you did." Duo muttered, unable to hold back his two cents. The words were quiet though, not really meant to be heard. Heero's change in expression took Duo by surprise, he'd only ever seen him with either a blank face or a grimace of pain. This ghost of a smile, though not a kind smile, something other than the norm, was taken as a good sign. Heero didn't seem the type to pass around even a dark smirk lightly. The braided boy smiled back, just a little. It was just as humorless as his companions, but somehow more real. "I'm glad you came." It was a strange statement, but it was true. He figured something like that would probably leave his taciturn companion with even less to say then usual.

The more expressive of the two cleared his throat, as a way to move on to a different topic. "You can stay here if you want. There isn't a lot of room, but it's free and secure from people who aren't you." Duo laughed lightly at his own joke.

noheero

Duo's appreciation derailed rather than decompressed. As expected, Heero quieted in it's wake. His smile faded. Not quickly. Not with the severity of snuffed pleasure. 01's mouth simply returned to it's usual thinness. Once again, he was contently covert.

He didn't stop staring, though.

He watched as Duo laughed. 02's bangs quivered with enthusiasm, celebrating his sense of humor. It looked good, when they did that. As the display ended, Yuy glanced down to dig beneath the top of one, yellow sneaker. "Here." He offered Duo back a slim, leather wallet. "Picked up some rations on the way back."

duoordie

Duo's eyebrows rose in a blatant show of surprise. "I guess I deserve that." He could only figure Heero had snatched his wallet during their almost-scuffle in the alleyway. "I didn't even feel you take it, that's talent." The mechanic reached out to collect his wallet, only to throw it on the pile of his discarded coat. He knew where it was, it would still be there later barring that Heero didn't feel the need for another shopping trip. He shouldn't be so surprised that basic pick-pocketing was part of the soldiers training, but he made a mental note to return the favor at some point. "Thanks." He said with a short nod.

The light from the bathroom outlined Heero sharply, as they shared a moment of silence. Duo remembered the old pictures of paintings he had seen in the church, of celestial beings with light shining all around them. He wasn't deluded, the soldier before him was no angel. Perhaps though, like Duo, he had also been so touched by Death he had become it's emissary. Just maybe, Heero wouldn't die like everyone else. A small seed of hope took root in a long barren heart. The other's name weighed heavy on his tongue.

noheero

They settled into their favored sleeping positions in relative silence. Duo rearranged his blankets and Heero retired flatly on top of them. They committed to sharing the mattresses in a way specific to soldiers. It didn't matter that their shoulders touched or that candy wrappers rustled somewhere under Duo's side while he was getting comfortable. They were a pair of tired nomads and thus, sober in their approach to rest.

Mostly.

Just as Heero prepared to soak in the dense peace of a dreamless sleep, Duo decided he needed to nestle differently beside him. He turned back and forth, then took up residence on his back. Heero felt the other trying to stifle a question…or a statement…or a joke. Something gently disruptive. He waited for it with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

duoordie

A weak yawn spread Duo's mouth comically wide, and they both took it as a sign that it was time to get some actual rest. the braided boy separated out a blanket for Heero to use, only to softly laugh as the other boy just laid on top of it like a wooden board. This sort of thing wasn't uncommon in their lives. Either there were shifts for beds, or if it was big enough you just shared. When you got a chance to sleep, you took it. Dark blue eyes had the slight burn of fatigue, of needing real rest… but he found himself turning over. Once. Twice. His favored positions were suddenly uncomfortable. The desire to speak filled his mouth, pressed on his teeth. He'd been his own prisoner in this bunker for too long, and part of him could not ignore the urge to interact with his company much longer. Duo settled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, at once worried that he was being annoying but unable to stop himself. "…are you asleep?"

noheero

"No."

Heero's answer was neutral. He remained motionless on his side of the bed, waiting. Duo's desire to talk thickened the air like octane, but he failed to ignite it. Not a single word sparked. Heero allowed his head to loll so that he could watch his uncharacteristically-quiet companion.

"…You said it was you."

duoordie

The air in the safe house was cool, and the fans quiet enough to keep the air moving without breaking the slowly forming conversation. The currents whispered softly against exposed skin, the warm breath escaping too-close bodies doing little to disturb the room. Heero's statement brought the braided boy's mind back to a topic he'd rather avoid. Here in the dark though… where the other couldn't see him and the need for rest dulled his mind… he found himself speaking quietly. "On the battlefield… I have no identity, no face, besides Deathscythe." Shaking breath pulled through chapped lips, quickly wet by a swift passage of his tongue. "It's face became mine. How people see me, in the last moments of their lives'."

noheero

"An avatar." Heero's voice was stable. It's tone remained overhead for seconds after he'd finished speaking. He shifted in the dark, folding both arms behind his head to form the most reliable pillow he knew. His eyes returned to the ceiling - or the blackness that represented it. They would stay there as he spoke again.

"Is that really how you want to be seen? You want to embody Death? Kind of extreme, don't you think." No answer. Duo had to organize his thoughts into something coherent before replying. As he did, Heero's body relaxed. One, bent elbow drifted down against his companion. It hardly held the presence of a butterfly, but it was warm. It was human contact.

"I read your file. The Maxwell church tragedy – 245 civilian casualties. That's a lot of Death. Enough to make a person not want to see anymore."

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

duoordie

"….you did." Duo muttered, unable to hold back his two cents. The words were quiet though, not really meant to be heard. Heero's change in expression took Duo by surprise, he'd only ever seen him with either a blank face or a grimace of pain. This ghost of a smile, though not a kind smile, something other than the norm, was taken as a good sign. Heero didn't seem the type to pass around even a dark smirk lightly. The braided boy smiled back, just a little. It was just as humorless as his companions, but somehow more real. "I'm glad you came." It was a strange statement, but it was true. He figured something like that would probably leave his taciturn companion with even less to say then usual.

The more expressive of the two cleared his throat, as a way to move on to a different topic. "You can stay here if you want. There isn't a lot of room, but it's free and secure from people who aren't you." Duo laughed lightly at his own joke.

noheero

Duo's appreciation derailed rather than decompressed. As expected, Heero quieted in it's wake. His smile faded. Not quickly. Not with the severity of snuffed pleasure. 01's mouth simply returned to it's usual thinness. Once again, he was contently covert.

He didn't stop staring, though.

He watched as Duo laughed. 02's bangs quivered with enthusiasm, celebrating his sense of humor. It looked good, when they did that. As the display ended, Yuy glanced down to dig beneath the top of one, yellow sneaker. "Here." He offered Duo back a slim, leather wallet. "Picked up some rations on the way back."

duoordie

Duo's eyebrows rose in a blatant show of surprise. "I guess I deserve that." He could only figure Heero had snatched his wallet during their almost-scuffle in the alleyway. "I didn't even feel you take it, that's talent." The mechanic reached out to collect his wallet, only to throw it on the pile of his discarded coat. He knew where it was, it would still be there later barring that Heero didn't feel the need for another shopping trip. He shouldn't be so surprised that basic pick-pocketing was part of the soldiers training, but he made a mental note to return the favor at some point. "Thanks." He said with a short nod.

The light from the bathroom outlined Heero sharply, as they shared a moment of silence. Duo remembered the old pictures of paintings he had seen in the church, of celestial beings with light shining all around them. He wasn't deluded, the soldier before him was no angel. Perhaps though, like Duo, he had also been so touched by Death he had become it's emissary. Just maybe, Heero wouldn't die like everyone else. A small seed of hope took root in a long barren heart. The other's name weighed heavy on his tongue.

noheero

They settled into their favored sleeping positions in relative silence. Duo rearranged his blankets and Heero retired flatly on top of them. They committed to sharing the mattresses in a way specific to soldiers. It didn't matter that their shoulders touched or that candy wrappers rustled somewhere under Duo's side while he was getting comfortable. They were a pair of tired nomads and thus, sober in their approach to rest.

Mostly.

Just as Heero prepared to soak in the dense peace of a dreamless sleep, Duo decided he needed to nestle differently beside him. He turned back and forth, then took up residence on his back. Heero felt the other trying to stifle a question…or a statement…or a joke. Something gently disruptive. He waited for it with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

duoordie

A weak yawn spread Duo's mouth comically wide, and they both took it as a sign that it was time to get some actual rest. the braided boy separated out a blanket for Heero to use, only to softly laugh as the other boy just laid on top of it like a wooden board. This sort of thing wasn't uncommon in their lives. Either there were shifts for beds, or if it was big enough you just shared. When you got a chance to sleep, you took it. Dark blue eyes had the slight burn of fatigue, of needing real rest… but he found himself turning over. Once. Twice. His favored positions were suddenly uncomfortable. The desire to speak filled his mouth, pressed on his teeth. He'd been his own prisoner in this bunker for too long, and part of him could not ignore the urge to interact with his company much longer. Duo settled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, at once worried that he was being annoying but unable to stop himself. "…are you asleep?"

noheero

"No."

Heero's answer was neutral. He remained motionless on his side of the bed, waiting. Duo's desire to talk thickened the air like octane, but he failed to ignite it. Not a single word sparked. Heero allowed his head to loll so that he could watch his uncharacteristically-quiet companion.

"…You said it was you."

duoordie

The air in the safe house was cool, and the fans quiet enough to keep the air moving without breaking the slowly forming conversation. The currents whispered softly against exposed skin, the warm breath escaping too-close bodies doing little to disturb the room. Heero's statement brought the braided boy's mind back to a topic he'd rather avoid. Here in the dark though… where the other couldn't see him and the need for rest dulled his mind… he found himself speaking quietly. "On the battlefield… I have no identity, no face, besides Deathscythe." Shaking breath pulled through chapped lips, quickly wet by a swift passage of his tongue. "It's face became mine. How people see me, in the last moments of their lives'."

noheero

"An avatar." Heero's voice was stable. It's tone remained overhead for seconds after he'd finished speaking. He shifted in the dark, folding both arms behind his head to form the most reliable pillow he knew. His eyes returned to the ceiling - or the blackness that represented it. They would stay there as he spoke again.

"Is that really how you want to be seen? You want to embody Death? Kind of extreme, don't you think." No answer. Duo had to organize his thoughts into something coherent before replying. As he did, Heero's body relaxed. One, bent elbow drifted down against his companion. It hardly held the presence of a butterfly, but it was warm. It was human contact.

"I read your file. The Maxwell church tragedy – 245 civilian casualties. That's a lot of Death. Enough to make a person not want to see anymore."

duoordie

Duo swallowed thickly, too many words suddenly caught in his throat. "… should have figured you'd have access to the doctors' files if you wanted to." A small sigh left a body too weary to belong to a 15 year old. The room was dark, even if he wanted to look at his companion he wouldn't be able to see him. "Death follows me, it's the only thing I've ever been able to count on." A pang of loneliness rang through the braided boy. It felt pointless to try to explain, if the other didn't already understand. "Isn't that what I am? What we are?" A note of frustration sounded in the for once quiet voice. "The God of Death. Diplomacy and negotiations fail, so we kill those opposed to peace. We can dress up the words all we want… but I bring death wherever I go. This time it's just part of the mission." The warmth of the other's contact was unexpected, for a moment he pulled away thinking he wasn't giving the other enough room, before relaxing back against Heero and allowing the small physical connection to continue. Maybe it could help bridge the gap where words failed.

noheero

Heero didn't reply.

The fan whirred in place of his opinion. It's breeze swept by twice before there was movement from his side of the mattress. A collection of fingers pressed themselves against Duo's back. They created a delicate circle for his spine to run through before expanding to console the span of fabric between his shoulder blades. It was an odd method of comfort in place of words, but there was nothing to say. Duo was right about their situation.

Heero's fingers closed, then bloomed again to send a tickle through their target. He witnessed gradual signs of relaxation; wilting shoulders, deepening breaths. Duo was quick to surrender to the sleep he'd desperately needed - the true, bottomless kind that could only occur when an ally was present. When the rise and fall if of his ribs signalled rest, Heero's hand dropped. He rolled onto his side and into a slumber of his own.

—

He would wake to the scent of creeping myrtle…and the sensation of creeping fingers. They gently clawed against his back, reaffirming their grip on his shirt. Duo had smashed himself against his bedmate during the night. His bangs hid between Heero's neck and shoulder. His knees shelved the others legs. His breath ran down Heero's spine in smooth, warm lines - defying the fan's icy current.

It wasn't the first time that Heero had been spooned. Duo had explained once, somewhat sheepishly, that he'd been raised in a 'heap'a homeless kids.' He was used to being crowded and couldn't be blamed for seeking familiarity in his sleep. Heero understood the habit, but made no effort to accommodate it. He sat up. Duo's hands curled inwards, towards his chest. He nuzzled into the mattress in absence of Heero's back.

A poor substitute, but a common one.

noheero

God of Grief

L2 was never quiet. Instead of simmering down with it's darkening sky-sceen, it lit up with emergency sirens, domestic squabbles and howling dogs. It echoed social dysfunction and Heero meandered through it absently, aware that he was simply hearing sounds of life - hostile, but inevitable anytime too many minds occupied the same space.

Some minds required more space than others, of course. The truly damaged ones acted like black holes - swirling into themselves and devouring anyone fool enough to come near. They remained on the outskirts of society, where they could absorb as little of their fellow man as possible. Except Duo, who had planted himself in the middle of a population because he needed noise. He needed a reminder of life. It was an ironic compulsion, considering he idolized Death.

Which he had recently failed to experience because, his detonation system had been sabotaged by an ally; a real 'buddy' who hadn't bothered to leave the self-destruct button intact after stripping Deathscythe for parts. Heero felt no remorse for his vandalism, but had no intention of mentioning it. He paused outside of a convenience store to consider his options. The shop's florescent advertisements threw neon colors across his vacant face.

It would be best to leave L2.

—

Two hours later, he was breaking into Duo's shelter for the second time. Heero infiltrated it as though it were an enemy base. Technically, it was. He had made himself into an enemy in the alleyway and was no longer welcome beneath the bunker's hatch. Thus, he took the time to snip its sound system - Because an alarm could provide an excuse. Like a devil on Duo's shoulder, it's siren would state that he was entitled to pull the trigger; end an encroachment on his territory. Heero descended down narrow stairs with this in mind.

Instead of a bullet, He was greeted by red lights at the bottom of the steps. Their flash repeatedly drew the bunker out of darkness to cast glimpses of hell across its shabby furnishings. Heero calmly set down his grocery bag and moved towards the bedroom. He put a quick and quiet stop to the chaotic lightshow by tampering with the alarm panel. Duo's bathroom saved him from blindness after the strobes had ceased. It's florescent bulb bled into the room and traced the miserable lump of blankets that he knew to to be Maxwell.

duoordie

Duo felt more than heard Heero crack open his safe house… again. The feeling of someone else breathing your air, of another's heartbeat vibrating through now shared space. The light from the bathroom bled through the fabric of the blanket he had pulled over his face. He'd remained where he had let himself fall, still dressed but with several layers of insulating fabric acting as the facade of a shield between him and the other pilot.

Questions went unvoiced, the braided boy just laid still. Why had the other boy come back, how many times would the stoic pilot try to save him? After breaking out of the Oz facility they had both scattered to ensure they were more difficult to track. Well, for Oz to track, clearly Heero had no such difficulties. The thin boy stayed wrapped in his coverings, which may well have been paper thin under the force of 01′s stare. That weight was a mixture of too much and not enough. He was still angry, but not in the punching sort of way now, there had been enough time to calm down from that particular foolish high. Instead, he contemplated yet another mission that he was unlikely to come back from… and that last person to see him would be beholding him at his most pathetic. He felt embarrassed, ashamed.

noheero

Duo was playing dead.

Heero watched the uneven rise and fall of his blankets, fully aware that their rhythm wasn't true to sleep. He'd once heard the phrase, 'let sleeping dogs lie,' – or had it been 'sleeping Gods'?

Either way, it seemed applicable now. Because he wasn't ready to initiate a lengthy conversation. He resumed his original task, taking the bag he'd brought into the kitchen. It was noisy- the sort of cheap, white plastic that had a tendency to rip prematurely.

Swish

Swish

Crinkle-swish

He bent in front of Duo's mini-fridge and proceeded to restock it with water bottles and protein bars. One at a time. He tried to strategize during those swift, loud seconds. But nothing helpful came. His mind was too still…too blank. In the end, he returned to the bedroom in silence, pressed his back to the adjacent wall and slid into a sitting position. His arms draped lazily over his knees and the tips of his shoes stabbed against Duo's mattress.

"Wing is a tool; a means to an end. But your Gundam was more, wasn't it. I can't relate to that, but…I can recognize grief when I see it."

duoordie

Heero's words sounded loud in the previously quiet space, taking up room in empty air. A sigh escaped the pile of blankets. "…Deathscythe was home. It was me." Duo sat up, and the blanket fell away like autumn leaves. "I don't expect you to understand." The phrase wasn't uttered with any sense of condemnation or judgement, just as an accepted part of this interaction. Deathscythe hadn't been properly modified for space, even with his superior skill at piloting, there hadn't been a chance. The braided boy knew that, but it didn't help the feeling of guilt that if he had been better… if he was more like Heero, he wouldn't have been captured in the first place.

Duo maintained eye contact for a short while, before looking away. "It's not any of your business… but I found out where the Mobile Dolls are being manufactured. I leave in two days, once my contact finishes forging my papers." He was going to destroy that facility, and there wasn't a very good chance of him making it out alive. The stoic pilot was by no means warm, Duo didn't expect sympathy or anything of that sort from him, he just wanted him to know he wasn't done with their war.

noheero

'I don't expect you to understand.'

Heero's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. It was a squint of intrigue. He was listening with more than his ears; focusing on Duo's confession like a well-aimed arrow. He'd expected more (because with Duo, there was always more.) What he got was only a snippet of the discussion he'd anticipated, but the word ❝ HOME ❞ rang heavy. The word ❝ ME ❞ was massive.

Quality over quantity.

Duo averted his gaze before witnessing the others intent to speak. A sharp blink, a parting of lips, a twitch of shoulders - all symptoms would be lost to the vacuum between them. Heero reset himself. It was easy to do whenever a mission was mentioned. "So, you are returning to the field. I asked-"

duoordie

The braided boy took a deep breath, glad that the other pilot had allowed him to escape the previous topic. Part of him burned to talk more, to try to explain his grief to the other… but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Heero had saved him, now more than once, but while Duo was quick to make easy friends he didn't really know where he stood with Heero at all. "They said it would take a week for the papers to be good enough to pass, so I've been holed up." It wasn't the whole truth, he had been avoiding everything as well. Using this unavoidable time between destruction to take a moment and tear himself to pieces as well. There was a certain masochistic pleasure in allowing yourself to give up, and knowing that it's a temporary state. That eventually you will have to get back up, because laying down and dying isn't a real choice. You can die in flames, die from bullets and blades, but to accept it was to go against his own soul. Blue eyes went back to their reluctant conversation partner. "… I will destroy Oz. Even if only a piece at a time." Duo felt the weight of a cross not his own, and though he had let it slip for a moment it was near time to bear that burden again, though he knew which each step he carried it it was only bringing him closer to death.

noheero

Duo's confirmation seemed to satisfy his listener. Heero's chin tilted down, while the corner of his lips curled up. His expression couldn't be considered a smile as much as a smirk; something daunting and dark in place of genuine support.

He'd grown still. The bathroom's dim light didn't help him appear warm. It traced his left side as though he were a machine, filling in the edges of his musculature and the wrinkles of his shirt. "I thought that I'd find a corpse here. Good to know you're still alive."

duoordie

"….you did." Duo muttered, unable to hold back his two cents. The words were quiet though, not really meant to be heard. Heero's change in expression took Duo by surprise, he'd only ever seen him with either a blank face or a grimace of pain. This ghost of a smile, though not a kind smile, something other than the norm, was taken as a good sign. Heero didn't seem the type to pass around even a dark smirk lightly. The braided boy smiled back, just a little. It was just as humorless as his companions, but somehow more real. "I'm glad you came." It was a strange statement, but it was true. He figured something like that would probably leave his taciturn companion with even less to say then usual.

The more expressive of the two cleared his throat, as a way to move on to a different topic. "You can stay here if you want. There isn't a lot of room, but it's free and secure from people who aren't you." Duo laughed lightly at his own joke.

noheero

Duo's appreciation derailed rather than decompressed. As expected, Heero quieted in it's wake. His smile faded. Not quickly. Not with the severity of snuffed pleasure. 01's mouth simply returned to it's usual thinness. Once again, he was contently covert.

He didn't stop staring, though.

He watched as Duo laughed. 02's bangs quivered with enthusiasm, celebrating his sense of humor. It looked good, when they did that. As the display ended, Yuy glanced down to dig beneath the top of one, yellow sneaker. "Here." He offered Duo back a slim, leather wallet. "Picked up some rations on the way back."

duoordie

Duo's eyebrows rose in a blatant show of surprise. "I guess I deserve that." He could only figure Heero had snatched his wallet during their almost-scuffle in the alleyway. "I didn't even feel you take it, that's talent." The mechanic reached out to collect his wallet, only to throw it on the pile of his discarded coat. He knew where it was, it would still be there later barring that Heero didn't feel the need for another shopping trip. He shouldn't be so surprised that basic pick-pocketing was part of the soldiers training, but he made a mental note to return the favor at some point. "Thanks." He said with a short nod.

The light from the bathroom outlined Heero sharply, as they shared a moment of silence. Duo remembered the old pictures of paintings he had seen in the church, of celestial beings with light shining all around them. He wasn't deluded, the soldier before him was no angel. Perhaps though, like Duo, he had also been so touched by Death he had become it's emissary. Just maybe, Heero wouldn't die like everyone else. A small seed of hope took root in a long barren heart. The other's name weighed heavy on his tongue.

noheero

They settled into their favored sleeping positions in relative silence. Duo rearranged his blankets and Heero retired flatly on top of them. They committed to sharing the mattresses in a way specific to soldiers. It didn't matter that their shoulders touched or that candy wrappers rustled somewhere under Duo's side while he was getting comfortable. They were a pair of tired nomads and thus, sober in their approach to rest.

Mostly.

Just as Heero prepared to soak in the dense peace of a dreamless sleep, Duo decided he needed to nestle differently beside him. He turned back and forth, then took up residence on his back. Heero felt the other trying to stifle a question…or a statement…or a joke. Something gently disruptive. He waited for it with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

duoordie

A weak yawn spread Duo's mouth comically wide, and they both took it as a sign that it was time to get some actual rest. the braided boy separated out a blanket for Heero to use, only to softly laugh as the other boy just laid on top of it like a wooden board. This sort of thing wasn't uncommon in their lives. Either there were shifts for beds, or if it was big enough you just shared. When you got a chance to sleep, you took it. Dark blue eyes had the slight burn of fatigue, of needing real rest… but he found himself turning over. Once. Twice. His favored positions were suddenly uncomfortable. The desire to speak filled his mouth, pressed on his teeth. He'd been his own prisoner in this bunker for too long, and part of him could not ignore the urge to interact with his company much longer. Duo settled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, at once worried that he was being annoying but unable to stop himself. "…are you asleep?"

noheero

"No."

Heero's answer was neutral. He remained motionless on his side of the bed, waiting. Duo's desire to talk thickened the air like octane, but he failed to ignite it. Not a single word sparked. Heero allowed his head to loll so that he could watch his uncharacteristically-quiet companion.

"…You said it was you."

duoordie

The air in the safe house was cool, and the fans quiet enough to keep the air moving without breaking the slowly forming conversation. The currents whispered softly against exposed skin, the warm breath escaping too-close bodies doing little to disturb the room. Heero's statement brought the braided boy's mind back to a topic he'd rather avoid. Here in the dark though… where the other couldn't see him and the need for rest dulled his mind… he found himself speaking quietly. "On the battlefield… I have no identity, no face, besides Deathscythe." Shaking breath pulled through chapped lips, quickly wet by a swift passage of his tongue. "It's face became mine. How people see me, in the last moments of their lives'."

noheero

"An avatar." Heero's voice was stable. It's tone remained overhead for seconds after he'd finished speaking. He shifted in the dark, folding both arms behind his head to form the most reliable pillow he knew. His eyes returned to the ceiling - or the blackness that represented it. They would stay there as he spoke again.

"Is that really how you want to be seen? You want to embody Death? Kind of extreme, don't you think." No answer. Duo had to organize his thoughts into something coherent before replying. As he did, Heero's body relaxed. One, bent elbow drifted down against his companion. It hardly held the presence of a butterfly, but it was warm. It was human contact.

"I read your file. The Maxwell church tragedy – 245 civilian casualties. That's a lot of Death. Enough to make a person not want to see anymore."

duoordie

Duo swallowed thickly, too many words suddenly caught in his throat. "… should have figured you'd have access to the doctors' files if you wanted to." A small sigh left a body too weary to belong to a 15 year old. The room was dark, even if he wanted to look at his companion he wouldn't be able to see him. "Death follows me, it's the only thing I've ever been able to count on." A pang of loneliness rang through the braided boy. It felt pointless to try to explain, if the other didn't already understand. "Isn't that what I am? What we are?" A note of frustration sounded in the for once quiet voice. "The God of Death. Diplomacy and negotiations fail, so we kill those opposed to peace. We can dress up the words all we want… but I bring death wherever I go. This time it's just part of the mission." The warmth of the other's contact was unexpected, for a moment he pulled away thinking he wasn't giving the other enough room, before relaxing back against Heero and allowing the small physical connection to continue. Maybe it could help bridge the gap where words failed.

noheero

Heero didn't reply.

The fan whirred in place of his opinion. It's breeze swept by twice before there was movement from his side of the mattress. A collection of fingers pressed themselves against Duo's back. They created a delicate circle for his spine to run through before expanding to console the span of fabric between his shoulder blades. It was an odd method of comfort in place of words, but there was nothing to say. Duo was right about their situation.

Heero's fingers closed, then bloomed again to send a tickle through their target. He witnessed gradual signs of relaxation; wilting shoulders, deepening breaths. Duo was quick to surrender to the sleep he'd desperately needed - the true, bottomless kind that could only occur when an ally was present. When the rise and fall if of his ribs signalled rest, Heero's hand dropped. He rolled onto his side and into a slumber of his own.

—

He would wake to the scent of creeping myrtle…and the sensation of creeping fingers. They gently clawed against his back, reaffirming their grip on his shirt. Duo had smashed himself against his bedmate during the night. His bangs hid between Heero's neck and shoulder. His knees shelved the others legs. His breath ran down Heero's spine in smooth, warm lines - defying the fan's icy current.

It wasn't the first time that Heero had been spooned. Duo had explained once, somewhat sheepishly, that he'd been raised in a 'heap'a homeless kids.' He was used to being crowded and couldn't be blamed for seeking familiarity in his sleep. Heero understood the habit, but made no effort to accommodate it. He sat up. Duo's hands curled inwards, towards his chest. He nuzzled into the mattress in absence of Heero's back.

A poor substitute, but a common one.

duoordie

Even as the fans kept moving the air around the room, the fall in conversation added a stagnant feeling. How could Heero not understand? Duo turned away, feeling frustrated and a slight bit betrayed. He thought if anyone could understand it would be Heero, Hadn't though both pushed themselves so deep into death that they were stained by it? Or was it only Duo who felt that corruption seeping into his skin, crawling through his body like an infection… his fellow pilot said nothing. The braided boy drew the thin sheet closer to himself, lanky legs pushing his pile of other blankets down to the bottom of the mattress.

Contact. A surprise. The brunet boy had to stop himself from recoiling from the other's touch. Not because it was unpleasant, but because he didn't know what to make of it. He remembered how those same hands had washed his hair. Heero had not shown himself to be much of a talker, maybe this was easier for him. Maybe this was how the austere pilot communicated best. Warm fingers pressed against his back, and he wished for a moment that he could remove his shirt to feel that contact more clearly, but instead stayed still. He breathed as his companion softly pushed yet more care into him. He couldn't understand Heero either, it would take time and just possibly this was a message that there would be time. That they could know each other as more than just Gundam pilots.

Duo let himself relax against the contact, his nerves sending pleasured signals up into his tired mind. Eyelids became heavier, falling down until ocean eyes were covered and eyelashes rested against still round cheeks. Still the other's hands danced on the surprisingly sensitive flesh of his back, and that fatigued boy couldn't resist the call of rest any further.

—

Cold. Cold. Cold meant Death. Life, nearby. Cling to it. Hold it. Fire. Warmth. Life. Don't let go. Safety. Not Alone. Hold On. Please don't die.

Duo Maxwell slept. A small groan escaped his lips as the other boy moved, fingers searching mindlessly for his fleeing bed partner, but he remained unconscious. An unfamiliar scent floated in his dreams.

noheero

Damp grass under smoke.

Heero Yuy.

Duo would wake up to privacy and cold sheets. Heero had absconded, as Heero had been known to do. Though, he'd thoroughly cleaned his ally's gun before leaving. It rested on top of the mini-fridge, fulfilling the role of a well-polished paperweight. Beneath it, a napkin notated it's ammunition count. 'You have 13 rounds left.'

Heero's handwriting was jagged and small. Probably unpracticed. His maintenance; however, was immaculate. Maxwell's pistol had been disassembled, expertly renewed and put back together. There was no evidence of gun oil aside from the smell and, hidden under the guns pampered weight, was a final message.

'See you in space.'

\- E N D


End file.
